I wonder if it's possible. To turn into an individual with an ice-cold brain. If an emotional, talkattive, worries-too-much individual with overly transparent face expressions like myself can turn into someone who keeps their emotions in check, talks when needed, stops worrying about cooking right, having enough to send her son to a good college, saving enough for retirement, and of course, whether or not her son is getting enough sleep, getting decent grades, getting spoilt... basically, stops worrying altogether and focuses instead on the job at hand: overhauling relationships where an overhaul was overdue, ignoring the ties that bind (and gag), whether by blood or by vows. Caught between two generations, I have no choice now but to fight back. And I'm not going to do it in the way that's expected of me - me, the open, transparent, wears-my-heart-on-my-sleeve person.
It's been five days and I've managed quite nicely, thank you very much. I'm not saying it's been easy. But it's a start. Every time I hold myself from saying something, I can feel the snag in my throat. Every time I see something that I should be pointing out and rectifying with regard to the kid's behaviour, but don't, the gulp in my throat feels like swallowing rocks. Every time I feel the dire need to ask the spouse, "Why?" but hold back the words, I feel like someone's cutting my insides to ribbons. But this is important to me... and if I don't do this, I'll never make anything of my life!
Wish me luck.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Thursday, May 20, 2010
I am going to love me
Thanks to Karen over from WorkitMom, I'm making an effort to restart things a bit. It's been over a year since I last posted (and I only posted 4 times in 2009 sigh).
And it's weird the way things come together sometimes. A few days back, I was updating the blog I have on my son, writing about the vitrectomy he'd had last week - needed to tackle a macular pucker that had developed as a result of the Coats disease in his right eye. And surfed over to WorkitMom to read up on what other mothers were going through and coping with. Then Karen left a comment and I said to myself, I ought to restart the blog. And yesterday, the long-simmering troubles at home boiled over in a way I'd never have imagined. A few relationships have taken a fair amount of knocking and others have all but disintegrated. Unimaginable stuff happened, leaving me staring at the remains of my self-respect, my self-esteem and my theory that I had a more than a fair chance of coming out of this nightmare of a marriage with something of my being intact.
So it's back to the drawing board... sigh... well, actually, no. I have no intention of fighting any battles in this war any more. Ceasefires come and go, but the nightmare goes on forever. For me, there is no other way out. This is middle-class India we're talking about, where a woman who dares to walk out on an unreasonable spouse is punished by society (always, always), punished by the judicial system with respect to child custody and alimony (very often), and by her own family - parents, siblings (more often than you'd imagine). To make things interesting, you will have kids - especially boys - telling their mothers in some teenaged, hormone-surcharged rage, "No wonder Dad left you, you're a horrible woman."
But I digress... no more paralysis by analysis for me. I should put that up on my softboard at the office, at least. Or may be write it 10 times a day in a notebook, just to make sure my brain doesn't get ideas in the direction of self-pity.
For a change... I.am.going.to.love.me.
And at the risk of sounding cheesy and unoriginal, yes, I'm going to do it because I'm worth it. I'm worth a lot more than the s**t I get in return for back breaking toil and being somewhat true to my real self. Truth be told, I've no idea who I am anymore, because I've spent the past seven-odd years trying to be someone else, altering my behaviour to buy peace, bribe the spouse into a ceasefire, or just plain beg for some... what was it I wanted? Love? Respect? Acknowledgement, maybe?
I don't remember actually, and I don't care anymore. This is a new beginning. There are no counsellors involved, no outside help, no motivational speeches, no well-meaning friends, no self-help books. I've been see-sawing on this emotional rollercoaster for four years now and last night, I decided I was getting off the ride.
What am I going to do? I don't have a blueprint to a miracle solution. I'm going to take one day at a time (if you think that's a cliche, hang on and read the rest of the sentence) and every single day, I'm going to be true to myself. I am going to love myself. I am going to focus on me, what I've always wanted, MY dreams (trust me, I don't even have a real dream for myself because while I was growing up, I wasn't allowed to have any dreams, so it's an alien concept to me really), MY whims and fancies. I slave day in and day out and I get paid decently enough (enough to support a spouse and child and then save some) so I deserve to indulge in some whims and fancies every now and then.
I don't have the details - and given my irregularity in posting, I'm not even going to say 'watch this space' - but I am going to do some things for myself. No baby steps, but no giant leaps either. Yet remember, this is my road, my pace, my dreams my space.
And it's weird the way things come together sometimes. A few days back, I was updating the blog I have on my son, writing about the vitrectomy he'd had last week - needed to tackle a macular pucker that had developed as a result of the Coats disease in his right eye. And surfed over to WorkitMom to read up on what other mothers were going through and coping with. Then Karen left a comment and I said to myself, I ought to restart the blog. And yesterday, the long-simmering troubles at home boiled over in a way I'd never have imagined. A few relationships have taken a fair amount of knocking and others have all but disintegrated. Unimaginable stuff happened, leaving me staring at the remains of my self-respect, my self-esteem and my theory that I had a more than a fair chance of coming out of this nightmare of a marriage with something of my being intact.
So it's back to the drawing board... sigh... well, actually, no. I have no intention of fighting any battles in this war any more. Ceasefires come and go, but the nightmare goes on forever. For me, there is no other way out. This is middle-class India we're talking about, where a woman who dares to walk out on an unreasonable spouse is punished by society (always, always), punished by the judicial system with respect to child custody and alimony (very often), and by her own family - parents, siblings (more often than you'd imagine). To make things interesting, you will have kids - especially boys - telling their mothers in some teenaged, hormone-surcharged rage, "No wonder Dad left you, you're a horrible woman."
But I digress... no more paralysis by analysis for me. I should put that up on my softboard at the office, at least. Or may be write it 10 times a day in a notebook, just to make sure my brain doesn't get ideas in the direction of self-pity.
For a change... I.am.going.to.love.me.
And at the risk of sounding cheesy and unoriginal, yes, I'm going to do it because I'm worth it. I'm worth a lot more than the s**t I get in return for back breaking toil and being somewhat true to my real self. Truth be told, I've no idea who I am anymore, because I've spent the past seven-odd years trying to be someone else, altering my behaviour to buy peace, bribe the spouse into a ceasefire, or just plain beg for some... what was it I wanted? Love? Respect? Acknowledgement, maybe?
I don't remember actually, and I don't care anymore. This is a new beginning. There are no counsellors involved, no outside help, no motivational speeches, no well-meaning friends, no self-help books. I've been see-sawing on this emotional rollercoaster for four years now and last night, I decided I was getting off the ride.
What am I going to do? I don't have a blueprint to a miracle solution. I'm going to take one day at a time (if you think that's a cliche, hang on and read the rest of the sentence) and every single day, I'm going to be true to myself. I am going to love myself. I am going to focus on me, what I've always wanted, MY dreams (trust me, I don't even have a real dream for myself because while I was growing up, I wasn't allowed to have any dreams, so it's an alien concept to me really), MY whims and fancies. I slave day in and day out and I get paid decently enough (enough to support a spouse and child and then save some) so I deserve to indulge in some whims and fancies every now and then.
I don't have the details - and given my irregularity in posting, I'm not even going to say 'watch this space' - but I am going to do some things for myself. No baby steps, but no giant leaps either. Yet remember, this is my road, my pace, my dreams my space.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Balancing Act Hit by a Bout of Vertigo
I've felt this building up for months. A point where all understanding, comprehension and the will to think clearly get sucked into some huge black hole, which for some inexplicable reason - instead of sucking you in - keeps you teetering on the edge with a dramatic view of the inferno within.
My body is a reflection of what has happened to me - I am bloated, inert not just physically, but in the mind too. I can feel the mindscape closing in on all sides, shrinking sometimes to the point where the only left is a cry for a miracle. The pressure yields a pain that is all too physical to ignore and extends to those around me because it contaminates anything - a vibe, a word, a raised eyebrow - that escapes out of me.
The offspring and the spouse are out - will be for a couple of hours - and I feel marginally better. Was it this solitude that I wanted? Solitude without the accompanying list of chores that must be completedby a working mom who spends 11 hours away from home five days a week. There's something not right there - you are neglecting your duties, says a sudden blip from somewhere near my liver. My nostrils flare in response - right, like you don't know that doing those duties to the best of my abilities is what got us here in the first place. What about ME? I try talking to the spouse and I'm loudly reminded of sins of ommissions and commissions past. Try saying it applies to us both so can't we start afresh and all I get is "I'm too tired for all this." I'm tired, too. "You do it because you can." - the legend of the supermom is alive and kicking.
...So there I was, the supermom who spent a fair fortune on a beach resort vacation 8 months back, only to return horrendously dissatisfied because the spouse and offspring spent the day either at the beach or at the pool and the evenings eating or in front of the TV. And I was left - like a useless appendage, albeit one with the credit card to pay for everything - to go and explore the world that existed outside the resort. I was keen because I had lived there for a few years, gone to school there and wanted to take the offspring for a quick stroll down memory lane.
We've never been the drinking types - one drink in three months, sometimes a year - but the spouse has now given it all up, so there was no question of sitting at the open air bar in that expensive resort and listen to the lounge singers. No, it was the usual in-front-of-the-tv evening - made worse by the fact that there was no other room to escape to, and my bid to read and ignore my depressing surroundings was constantly interrupted by the offspring's senseless jabbering (sometimes cute, but not always) and the spouse's constant"So what should we order? Will...be enough?" The two refused to go out and try the real cuisine of the wonderful place we were in - so much tastier than the 'internatinalized' (read: bland) fare at the resort, and cheaper, of course.
The spa seemed too expensive to try out and having never been on a holiday of this sort before, I didn't know how to plan it out right. So I just went with the flow. Which was frustrating and depressing together.
One night, we were having dinner at one of the restaurants and I saw some folks at other tables - talking about things other than food and 'this is a nice, place'!! My brain floated out to those tables, yearning to meet new people, talk to them about something I could take away - just talk to someone else. My heart was completely untethered, disgustingly salivating at the men and women around us, smiling and talking, completely relaxed. I took a few deep breaths, told myself to accept the situation and make the best of it - like I do with everything else in life. Three-quarters of me listened to that plea, breathed in some resolve and crushed the one-quarter that was still rebelling...
...Enough of the dreaming says that blip, now moved from near my liver to the pit of my stomach. You have to make lunch - it's past 12.30. You already gave the spouse an ultimatum to give you a menu and he has.
It's for next week, idiot.
So what - get off your fat behind and cook...you've been lazy all morning.
Do the apple-cinnamon muffins I baked in the morning look like nothing to you? And the mashed potatoes
The offspring won't eat it and you know that - why couldn't you put chocolate in the cake.
Right, like that would have guaranteed that it would have been gobbled up. He has more than enough chocolate anyway.
The mashed potatoes - what are they supposed to eat it with?
I don't know any more!! I don't know anything about anything related to food and their preferences. It's not preferences anyway - it's all about what they f****** FEEL like eating at any given point in time.
You need help. The blip has now moved to my throat and is threatening to strangle me.
I gulp ineffectively. As usual, the argument is going nowhere. Time to dig out that old prescription and see if I can't ring for back-up.
My body is a reflection of what has happened to me - I am bloated, inert not just physically, but in the mind too. I can feel the mindscape closing in on all sides, shrinking sometimes to the point where the only left is a cry for a miracle. The pressure yields a pain that is all too physical to ignore and extends to those around me because it contaminates anything - a vibe, a word, a raised eyebrow - that escapes out of me.
The offspring and the spouse are out - will be for a couple of hours - and I feel marginally better. Was it this solitude that I wanted? Solitude without the accompanying list of chores that must be completedby a working mom who spends 11 hours away from home five days a week. There's something not right there - you are neglecting your duties, says a sudden blip from somewhere near my liver. My nostrils flare in response - right, like you don't know that doing those duties to the best of my abilities is what got us here in the first place. What about ME? I try talking to the spouse and I'm loudly reminded of sins of ommissions and commissions past. Try saying it applies to us both so can't we start afresh and all I get is "I'm too tired for all this." I'm tired, too. "You do it because you can." - the legend of the supermom is alive and kicking.
...So there I was, the supermom who spent a fair fortune on a beach resort vacation 8 months back, only to return horrendously dissatisfied because the spouse and offspring spent the day either at the beach or at the pool and the evenings eating or in front of the TV. And I was left - like a useless appendage, albeit one with the credit card to pay for everything - to go and explore the world that existed outside the resort. I was keen because I had lived there for a few years, gone to school there and wanted to take the offspring for a quick stroll down memory lane.
We've never been the drinking types - one drink in three months, sometimes a year - but the spouse has now given it all up, so there was no question of sitting at the open air bar in that expensive resort and listen to the lounge singers. No, it was the usual in-front-of-the-tv evening - made worse by the fact that there was no other room to escape to, and my bid to read and ignore my depressing surroundings was constantly interrupted by the offspring's senseless jabbering (sometimes cute, but not always) and the spouse's constant"So what should we order? Will...be enough?" The two refused to go out and try the real cuisine of the wonderful place we were in - so much tastier than the 'internatinalized' (read: bland) fare at the resort, and cheaper, of course.
The spa seemed too expensive to try out and having never been on a holiday of this sort before, I didn't know how to plan it out right. So I just went with the flow. Which was frustrating and depressing together.
One night, we were having dinner at one of the restaurants and I saw some folks at other tables - talking about things other than food and 'this is a nice, place'!! My brain floated out to those tables, yearning to meet new people, talk to them about something I could take away - just talk to someone else. My heart was completely untethered, disgustingly salivating at the men and women around us, smiling and talking, completely relaxed. I took a few deep breaths, told myself to accept the situation and make the best of it - like I do with everything else in life. Three-quarters of me listened to that plea, breathed in some resolve and crushed the one-quarter that was still rebelling...
...Enough of the dreaming says that blip, now moved from near my liver to the pit of my stomach. You have to make lunch - it's past 12.30. You already gave the spouse an ultimatum to give you a menu and he has.
It's for next week, idiot.
So what - get off your fat behind and cook...you've been lazy all morning.
Do the apple-cinnamon muffins I baked in the morning look like nothing to you? And the mashed potatoes
The offspring won't eat it and you know that - why couldn't you put chocolate in the cake.
Right, like that would have guaranteed that it would have been gobbled up. He has more than enough chocolate anyway.
The mashed potatoes - what are they supposed to eat it with?
I don't know any more!! I don't know anything about anything related to food and their preferences. It's not preferences anyway - it's all about what they f****** FEEL like eating at any given point in time.
You need help. The blip has now moved to my throat and is threatening to strangle me.
I gulp ineffectively. As usual, the argument is going nowhere. Time to dig out that old prescription and see if I can't ring for back-up.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Umpteenth comeback (and random stuff)
Yea, yea...I know I've been neglecting this blog. The not-so-new job is now a huge challenge - and oh yes, I got a promotion amid all the economic madness. So things just got busier.
Worse, I don't have access to Gmail at the office and therefore, no opportunity to upload a quick post during lunch break. Come to think of it, the official one-hour lunch break usually leaves my team and I with just 15 minutes to grab a bite...that's the amount of work we have. I can just hear you say, "Everyone's busy..." but stop right there. As copy editors, our deadlines are by the hour, sometimes by the quarter of an hour, so seriously, every minute counts. Enough about work, though.
The offspring is a month into his summer vacation, has finished a 4-week day camp and his eye check up for his Coats condition has been delalyed because his doctor is attending a conference in Florida! I must say I was upset at having to wait another three weeks but, well, God must have some reason for this. I'll just trust His judgment and wait.
I'm getting late for work even as I write this - I have no idea why I decided to post early in the morning, but I thought it was high time I did! :)
Worse, I don't have access to Gmail at the office and therefore, no opportunity to upload a quick post during lunch break. Come to think of it, the official one-hour lunch break usually leaves my team and I with just 15 minutes to grab a bite...that's the amount of work we have. I can just hear you say, "Everyone's busy..." but stop right there. As copy editors, our deadlines are by the hour, sometimes by the quarter of an hour, so seriously, every minute counts. Enough about work, though.
The offspring is a month into his summer vacation, has finished a 4-week day camp and his eye check up for his Coats condition has been delalyed because his doctor is attending a conference in Florida! I must say I was upset at having to wait another three weeks but, well, God must have some reason for this. I'll just trust His judgment and wait.
I'm getting late for work even as I write this - I have no idea why I decided to post early in the morning, but I thought it was high time I did! :)
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Out of the mouths of babes!
The kiddo finally did what I couldn't - ticked off the DH over his impatience and his tendency to get irritated over nothing. He's always looking irritated (the DH, that is, not the offspring.)
DH very often stomps around the house (really, audibly stomps) staring straight ahead, giving off toxic vibes. All because...um...he didn't like what was made at breakfast, because breakfast was cold because he had it at 11 am (on a weekend) or because the child in the house spoke while DH was having his morning cup of tea or because he remembered something awful, because I dared to open my mouth and disagree with him, or because he slept less than his 9.5 hours a night (12-14 on weekends + 2-hour siestas), or... well, you get the detailed watercolor!
So this morning, the kid said something innocuous and immediately, the nostrils flared, the eyes squinted and only the flames didn't come out. So Munchkin piped up: "Why do always you get so irriated? You're always looking irritated or angry!"
Out of the mouths of babes, what?
DH very often stomps around the house (really, audibly stomps) staring straight ahead, giving off toxic vibes. All because...um...he didn't like what was made at breakfast, because breakfast was cold because he had it at 11 am (on a weekend) or because the child in the house spoke while DH was having his morning cup of tea or because he remembered something awful, because I dared to open my mouth and disagree with him, or because he slept less than his 9.5 hours a night (12-14 on weekends + 2-hour siestas), or... well, you get the detailed watercolor!
So this morning, the kid said something innocuous and immediately, the nostrils flared, the eyes squinted and only the flames didn't come out. So Munchkin piped up: "Why do always you get so irriated? You're always looking irritated or angry!"
Out of the mouths of babes, what?
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Tenth time lucky?
I've lost track of the number of times I've signed in to update this blog but have had to give up because either the DH wanted something or the offspring was throwing a tantrum. Or I just couldn't get the words out.
It's been a real stressful time, balancing work, falling sick, coping with the exhaustion of the trip, temper tantrums, attitude problems and the offspring's cryo (the swelling was soooo much this time, it was s.c.a.r.y.)
I've also had it up to here with their tantrums. No matter what I make (even their faves) they don't want to eat it that day. I work full-time, pack them wholesome lunches but dinners and weekends are a nightmare. I have no time for myself. DH often leaves for work late and comes home early but I don't have that kind of a cushy job.
I want some time for myself else I'll implode.
It's been a real stressful time, balancing work, falling sick, coping with the exhaustion of the trip, temper tantrums, attitude problems and the offspring's cryo (the swelling was soooo much this time, it was s.c.a.r.y.)
I've also had it up to here with their tantrums. No matter what I make (even their faves) they don't want to eat it that day. I work full-time, pack them wholesome lunches but dinners and weekends are a nightmare. I have no time for myself. DH often leaves for work late and comes home early but I don't have that kind of a cushy job.
I want some time for myself else I'll implode.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Giving thanks and praying for strength
Life is strange. This time last year, I was going to pieces, hoping that my son's Coats disease was under control (it was). But just some time before that, I'd gone to pieces and sought help. I know I still need it, but for the past 7 months, I've managed on my own. Not commendably, and not the way I'd have liked to, but I've managed...
Now, I'm close to going to pieces again. Which is why it's time to take stock. My son's Coats has been under control for a year (his eye exam is around the corner. my fingers are crossed even as my brain reels like it always does in the run up to the eye exam every 4 months). In May, I managed to get out of my dead end job into one that's bursting at the seams with opportunities. I can say I've done pretty well for myself professionally - and there's scope to do more.
I can crib about the state of my marriage (hanging by the skin of my teeth), the state of my body (bursting), the state of my mind (all gone to hell and back) and the state of my house (the zone before time began) and the lack of time (ever got into the car and realized you were still wearing your bedroom slippers?) But that's nothing, really, when I sit to count my blessings.
And I feel truly blessed that I have my son, that I am able to be there for my mother - and she for me, and that all my hard work at the office is paying off. I am grateful to the Almighty that my son's condition was caught in time for treatment, and that the treatment has worked. He has flourished in school - at academics, at sports (he won the gold medal in the hoop race a couple of months ago) and other activities. I have a roof over my head and I am able to provide for my family. I am blessed with good health (the loose joints on the left-hand side of my body are worth another blog post, surely). We have been kept safe, day after day and that, in today's violent times, is something to truly give thanks for.
I need periods like this - to give thanks. Otherwise, I would just beat myself with thoughts of what more I need. Kiddo's sleeping over at my mom's. DH is asleep. And I finally have the time to return to my blog and give thanks. Because I know that although it's outrightly unfair for my child to be suffering from a condition that hangs over our him like a Damocles' sword, I know that the Almighty must have something good planned for him.
It breaks my heart to see him, innocent and carefree, deal with this condition in a very matter-of-fact manner. I dread the day he will ask me: "Why did this happen to me, Mamma?" So far, it's only been: "Will they make me unconscious or are we just going for the drops?" That's heart-rending, too, but I deal with it. I can only pray that when the time comes to answer the "why me?" or "when will this end?" questions, I will know what to say. Until then, I can only give thanks for the strength that we have received to deal with this thus far and hope for the best.
Now, I'm close to going to pieces again. Which is why it's time to take stock. My son's Coats has been under control for a year (his eye exam is around the corner. my fingers are crossed even as my brain reels like it always does in the run up to the eye exam every 4 months). In May, I managed to get out of my dead end job into one that's bursting at the seams with opportunities. I can say I've done pretty well for myself professionally - and there's scope to do more.
I can crib about the state of my marriage (hanging by the skin of my teeth), the state of my body (bursting), the state of my mind (all gone to hell and back) and the state of my house (the zone before time began) and the lack of time (ever got into the car and realized you were still wearing your bedroom slippers?) But that's nothing, really, when I sit to count my blessings.
And I feel truly blessed that I have my son, that I am able to be there for my mother - and she for me, and that all my hard work at the office is paying off. I am grateful to the Almighty that my son's condition was caught in time for treatment, and that the treatment has worked. He has flourished in school - at academics, at sports (he won the gold medal in the hoop race a couple of months ago) and other activities. I have a roof over my head and I am able to provide for my family. I am blessed with good health (the loose joints on the left-hand side of my body are worth another blog post, surely). We have been kept safe, day after day and that, in today's violent times, is something to truly give thanks for.
I need periods like this - to give thanks. Otherwise, I would just beat myself with thoughts of what more I need. Kiddo's sleeping over at my mom's. DH is asleep. And I finally have the time to return to my blog and give thanks. Because I know that although it's outrightly unfair for my child to be suffering from a condition that hangs over our him like a Damocles' sword, I know that the Almighty must have something good planned for him.
It breaks my heart to see him, innocent and carefree, deal with this condition in a very matter-of-fact manner. I dread the day he will ask me: "Why did this happen to me, Mamma?" So far, it's only been: "Will they make me unconscious or are we just going for the drops?" That's heart-rending, too, but I deal with it. I can only pray that when the time comes to answer the "why me?" or "when will this end?" questions, I will know what to say. Until then, I can only give thanks for the strength that we have received to deal with this thus far and hope for the best.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
The leakage is back...and I'm falling apart
I managed to get us an appointment with the eye doctor yesterday. The leakage has started again. Munchkin was really irritated about keeping his eyes closed for them to be dilated. And somehow, ever since we left home, I was expecting bad news.
This time, the exudates (old leakage) had reduced, but other blood vessels had swollen and have begun leaking. Amazing, how quickly things can change in four months. The good news is that these vessels are still a decent distance away from the macula, so by God's grace his vision remains unaffected.
I was in such a tizzy after having the Fundus photos taken that I agreed to leave the hospital without thinking. Poppet's father wanted to delay it until after we come back from his parents place - which would make it another two weeks. By that time, Poppet's school would have started again. I agreed at the time but something didn't seem right...I guess what threw me off was his comment: "You can think practically and get the cryo done on Wednesday and cancel the trip. Or you can think religiously and proceed with the trip, seek miracles at the temples we're supposed to go to and come back and get it done on the 2nd of Jan."
I just didn't know how to respond. On the way home, however, what struck me was that the doctor was okay with us travelling a few days after the cryo. Why not get it done now, go on our trip, seek the miracle, and have my Munchkin recover throughout the Holidays?
We weren't able to talk to the doctor on the phone that day but now I'm hoping to fix procedure for next Wednesday. We can then leave for his grandparents' place on Saturday.
The whole general anesthesia thing still gives me the jitters. And there's so much in flux at the office. I have a hundred loose ends to tie up before I can go away without worrying about being fired while I'm away. :-P
More after we've organized everything. Hang in there, Munchkin. I have faith this will all work out...
This time, the exudates (old leakage) had reduced, but other blood vessels had swollen and have begun leaking. Amazing, how quickly things can change in four months. The good news is that these vessels are still a decent distance away from the macula, so by God's grace his vision remains unaffected.
I was in such a tizzy after having the Fundus photos taken that I agreed to leave the hospital without thinking. Poppet's father wanted to delay it until after we come back from his parents place - which would make it another two weeks. By that time, Poppet's school would have started again. I agreed at the time but something didn't seem right...I guess what threw me off was his comment: "You can think practically and get the cryo done on Wednesday and cancel the trip. Or you can think religiously and proceed with the trip, seek miracles at the temples we're supposed to go to and come back and get it done on the 2nd of Jan."
I just didn't know how to respond. On the way home, however, what struck me was that the doctor was okay with us travelling a few days after the cryo. Why not get it done now, go on our trip, seek the miracle, and have my Munchkin recover throughout the Holidays?
We weren't able to talk to the doctor on the phone that day but now I'm hoping to fix procedure for next Wednesday. We can then leave for his grandparents' place on Saturday.
The whole general anesthesia thing still gives me the jitters. And there's so much in flux at the office. I have a hundred loose ends to tie up before I can go away without worrying about being fired while I'm away. :-P
More after we've organized everything. Hang in there, Munchkin. I have faith this will all work out...
Friday, December 19, 2008
That time of the year again
Last Christmas, I was thrilled to post that my son's Coats Disease had stabilized after two rounds of cryo and laser. It was my best Christmas gift ever.
Now it's that time of the year again. And just like last year, the eye exam has been delayed for one reason or another. He's actually not past his due date but I usually start early because I work myself up into such a frenzy that I want to know the results as soon as possible. He's had two more eye exams (one in March, the other in August) and the doctor says there's been no fresh leakage. The exudates (existing leakage) are still there, though. The doctor says they'll get absorbed over time, or he can use laser.
The kid also has glasses now - very, very low power and in both eyes. He also hasn't complained of any floaters or other discomfort throughout the year.
This time, we've kept missing the doctor (he was away for an emergency surgery the first time and the next week, I clean forgot - the stress is making me senile). We were all set for tomorrow, but it turns out the doctor's going to be in surgery again.
On Monday, the kid has his school's annual program. Tuesday's supposed to be a "bad day" for kids to be taken to a hospital; Wednesday the doctor's in surgery again; Thursday's Christmas, so the hospital OPD is closed; and Friday's surgery day again. Saturday we're leaving to visit my in-laws for a week. And then school re-opens again. And I am falling apart with the stress. It always builds up in the days running up the test.
A few days ago, a colleague mentioned my son's case to her eye doctor. He doesn't know my son's doctor but recommended someone else in the city. So that's another thing driving me crazy - do we stick by our doctor or get a third opinion (we've already had a second opinion - and it matched our doctor's).
Anyway, I'm sooo hoping the doctor will be able to spare some time to see my son tomorrow. Hopefully his assitant will be able to give me a clearer reply.
I honestly don't think I'll be able to go two weeks without knowing how my son is doing. The thing is, his condition has been stable since the last cryo in Oct 07 - which makes me wonder if all this is too good to be true.
I'm hoping and praying...
Now it's that time of the year again. And just like last year, the eye exam has been delayed for one reason or another. He's actually not past his due date but I usually start early because I work myself up into such a frenzy that I want to know the results as soon as possible. He's had two more eye exams (one in March, the other in August) and the doctor says there's been no fresh leakage. The exudates (existing leakage) are still there, though. The doctor says they'll get absorbed over time, or he can use laser.
The kid also has glasses now - very, very low power and in both eyes. He also hasn't complained of any floaters or other discomfort throughout the year.
This time, we've kept missing the doctor (he was away for an emergency surgery the first time and the next week, I clean forgot - the stress is making me senile). We were all set for tomorrow, but it turns out the doctor's going to be in surgery again.
On Monday, the kid has his school's annual program. Tuesday's supposed to be a "bad day" for kids to be taken to a hospital; Wednesday the doctor's in surgery again; Thursday's Christmas, so the hospital OPD is closed; and Friday's surgery day again. Saturday we're leaving to visit my in-laws for a week. And then school re-opens again. And I am falling apart with the stress. It always builds up in the days running up the test.
A few days ago, a colleague mentioned my son's case to her eye doctor. He doesn't know my son's doctor but recommended someone else in the city. So that's another thing driving me crazy - do we stick by our doctor or get a third opinion (we've already had a second opinion - and it matched our doctor's).
Anyway, I'm sooo hoping the doctor will be able to spare some time to see my son tomorrow. Hopefully his assitant will be able to give me a clearer reply.
I honestly don't think I'll be able to go two weeks without knowing how my son is doing. The thing is, his condition has been stable since the last cryo in Oct 07 - which makes me wonder if all this is too good to be true.
I'm hoping and praying...
Friday, July 11, 2008
Life without plastic (money)...it's really weird!
I made the mistake of using my credit card in Sri Lanka in May. Just a $3.50 payment to cover for the cash I didn't have at the Colombo airport duty free store. The next thing I know, I get a call from the card company telling me that Sri Lanka is a high-risk location and I would be better off if I had my card cancelled and get a new one at no cost. Sounded good.
Around the same time, I lost my ATM PIN and haven't been able to get around to applying for a new one. I have a new account - because I have a new job and the firm will send my salary only to that particular bank - but I haven't found an ATM near my office or my house. Sigh. The credit card delivery guy has twice arrived in the middle of the afternoon and returned because we weren't home. This is after specifically requesting for a Saturday delivery or an address where I could go and pick up the card. No go!
So in 2008, I'm now dependent on cold, hard cash to manage my day-to-day spending. :-( I've never paid a rupee in interest to the credit card company. I make my full payment each month. But now that I'm card-less, it's a weird feeling. Like withdrawal symptoms from an addiction or empty-purse syndrome, maybe.
Now I better sign off and call the credit card company and see when I can get my new card. Wish me luck.
Around the same time, I lost my ATM PIN and haven't been able to get around to applying for a new one. I have a new account - because I have a new job and the firm will send my salary only to that particular bank - but I haven't found an ATM near my office or my house. Sigh. The credit card delivery guy has twice arrived in the middle of the afternoon and returned because we weren't home. This is after specifically requesting for a Saturday delivery or an address where I could go and pick up the card. No go!
So in 2008, I'm now dependent on cold, hard cash to manage my day-to-day spending. :-( I've never paid a rupee in interest to the credit card company. I make my full payment each month. But now that I'm card-less, it's a weird feeling. Like withdrawal symptoms from an addiction or empty-purse syndrome, maybe.
Now I better sign off and call the credit card company and see when I can get my new card. Wish me luck.
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