Epppiglottitis, No Cure? MY Ass

Give. Me. The. Shot. The Vaccine. I want it. I want it NOW. No, not in a few minutes, not in a month or two. I can’t wait another second. Find someone, someone with authority to approve it. I can’t beg or grovel anymore. I know the kids’ vaccination exists, I know you have it in your back pediatric room. Stick it to me. In my arm or in my behind, just do it. Trust me, I will not cry, unless the tears are of relief.

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The only pediatrician I know to have a kind and open heart is Dr. Batman, he thinks outside the box, he cares. No, he was not my children’s pediatrician at the big Medical Group not far from NYC but that’s okay. We called him Batman when my children were little, he had all kinds of Batman gear and toys in his office, every time he saw us he smiled. Even when my daughter, wearing her sweet pink dress, white tights and black shiny shoes kicked him in his shin, he was nice. I was mortified.

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It was one of those horrific mother moments. I wanted to move to another country or enroll my daughter in juvenile hall but I made her write an apology note at home and more importantly I marched her back in and made her give it to him. Lesson learned.

After my first essay called “CALLING EPPIGLOTTITIS IS A BITCH IS A VAST UNDERSTATEMENT” (EARLIER ON THIS BLOG)

A reader wrote to me recently and said:” Lastly, since many posters seem to be getting this horrible illness more than once, go get vaccinated! Vaccinations started somewhere between 1988 and 1990. Prior to that time, most cases of epiglottitis were pediatric, but now it is more often found in adults (albeit still rare) who were born before vaccinations started.”

I’m starting a revolution, a Vaccinate Eppiglottitis revoution.  WHY can’t we have it. “Because” is NOT an answer. “Because it’s just for kids does NOT HELP.

English: Acute epiglottitis; Lateral view in X-ray imaging (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Spell it out. Why are you torturing so many thousands of people every day and leaving them at risk of dying? Of their throats swelling up, unable to breathe, causing them the worst pain that they have ever had? Trust me, giving birth was like a walk in the park compared to this.

I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy, well, maybe one or two.

We deserve an answer. All of us who have had Eppiglottitis deserve an answer and “no” and “Cuz” is not acceptable anymore. Why can’t we use the children’s vaccination in some way to help us adults that are suffering, many times over, with this life threatening illness?

Please find out we need to know, doctors and hospitals and The American Medical Association needs to know. We deserve an answer. It’s our right. Plus, we are begging and we are at your mercy. Ok?

 

I Panicked, Then I Got Over Myself (Because We Have No Choice)

The Donna Reed Show (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

At dinner, my nineteen year old son told me that he and his friends were going to see a movie later that night. I felt a chill course through my body. “Batman?” I asked in a somber tone. “Yeah” he said, just looking at my face, “Mom. don’t worry.” But, of course, I worried a bit and it is making me furious that once again there is another thing to feel fearful about when so much has already been taken away. We have lost the freedom to feel care-free, happy, because other people are killing each other senselessly.  Wait, that is incorrect, we have not “lost the freedom” it has been stripped from us, leaving open, bloody wounds and physical and emotional pain that will never go away.

I’m not saying that I won’t go to the movies again, certainly not, movies have always been my safe haven but now there’s another feeling about going into a movie theater other than just pure joy and excitement and playing the preview game, (thumbs up or thumbs down?)….there’s trepidation, at least for now.

Right after 9/11 people were scared to fly, many, many people. Others were even scared to take the trains or buses, I don’t like the world now. I liked it better when “Father Knows Best” was on television and “Mayberry RFD” and “The Donna Reed Show.” Any situation was always wrapped up neatly by the end of half an hour, and there was always a sweet, comforting ending. Sure, some mischief may have been made but the child learned a lesson, hugs were warmly given and they all sit down together for a really good dinner. ( Yes, it was always made by mom.)

Life seemed easier back then, sure we had fire drills at school and we had to scoot under our desks (maybe there were threats we knew nothing about) but there were no actual terrorist attacks or abductions or practice lock- downs that my children speak of as part of their day, as common as milk and cookies were to us in the fifties and sixties. Knowing it can never be the same stirs a gloomy sadness inside me.

What can I do to help?  Anything? I know, probably not. The world as I knew it has changed. I just wish there was some way that collectively we could think of a way to make things better. Instead, we stand on the sidelines and want to lift a hand. It may be a totally unrealistic and innocent idea but I just feel so helpless doing nothing. Sure, I can spare a few dollars to donate to the victims of Aurora, Colorado but that’s not what I am talking about. It’s not ENOUGH.

I have a longing for the past, an ache for a simpler life, the life of my childhood. I want to help make things better and don’t know how.

Can anyone else relate?

I Can’t Wrap My Brain Around This…Batman, Dark Night (Knight)

Rosie O’Donnell (Photo credit: Project M·A·R·C)

If I could pick one person, celebrity or friend, stranger or neighbor that I would want to spend time with today, I would pick Rosie O’Donnell. I wouldn’t pick her because she is famous and rich,  I would pick her because I think she is going through what I am going through now: shock and disbelief and utter, overwhelming sadness. I would pick her because she cares, because she is a mom and a woman and she had the nerve, or guts, to stand up to the NRA, perhaps not with diplomacy (agreed) but really…..look at us here again. Can you blame her?

The Colorado Mass Shootings at a Batman movie, midnight show.

I am a citizen of the United States and I am depressed and disgusted and I’ve had enough and so have many others. Gun manufacturers ruling our countries? It’s time NOW, politicians, all politicians to take a STAND and mean it. Why is that so terribly difficult?

I think of the families of these poor victims, waiting at home, waiting for news and it makes me want to cry. There is a great piece in Huffington News that is very well written that I suggest you read as well. This cannot go on, it should have been outlawed many years ago, think Columbine. I’ll be sitting home tonight, safely wrapped in a blanket, praying my children will be close by, giving each one an extra hug. To the families of the victims, I am so terribly sorry. No, I can’t relate because thus far I have not gone through your immense pain.

Will there ever be any sense made of this crime? I doubt it. Just grief, long, interminable waves of grief. I wish I could help. I know I can’t. I’m sorry.

Haiku Heights – Meaning

Batman: The Dark Knight (Photo credit: lamazone)

DEDICATED TO THE FAMILIES AND THE VICTIMS OF THE COLORADO KILLINGS.

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Tragedy anew,

I curl up like a seashell

Blocking out gun fire.

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Live a fearful life

The absence of awe and joy

I refuse to choose.

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Forge through cement walls

blood splashed upon the theater

red-purple pain, death.

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Senseless tragedy

What is the meaning of life

Destroyed so quickly?

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Carry On Tuesday: “So good to be be believed in once, so good to be remembered…..”

Newborn child, seconds after birth. The umbilical cord has not yet been cut. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“The dreams of childhood – its airy fables, its graceful, beautiful, humane, impossible adornments of the world beyond ; so good to be believed in once, so good to be remembered when outgrown.”

I am the mother of two children. “Children”, I laugh to myself, “children, no more!” My daughter is a skip away from eighteen, my son, soon to be twenty in a few months. Once I was everything to them, now, nothing much. Yes, they still come to me when they are hungry but they do not come with sticky kisses and hugs that curl around my knees like sloppy green caterpillars. No, it’s been many years since that has happened.  They yell throughout the house “what’s for dinner” or “I’m hungry” and even though they are fully capable of cooking their own meal but it is still nice to be needed, once in a while, in this small, insignificant way, although I am quick to reprimand them. It ‘s something. I know they love me, they just don’t show it; my husband and I have done a good job bringing up two wonderful, independent young adults. It’s not their fault that once in a while I feel so lonely.

When they were three and five, it was a magical time. A time for believing in Batman and monsters, pink princesses and glitter pixie dust. An innocent time and I was the one they truly believed in for anything. I could right any wrong, make any hurt feel less painful. I could vanish fears before bedtime or sing them lullabies, sitting exactly equally between their rooms so they could fall asleep. It was a truly special time, it felt “so good to be believed in once.”

Now, that is all left in the past. We are all moving on, this childhood home will be child-less come late August with two teenagers headed to college. Yes, there is a small part that wonders what my husband and I will talk about, what do we have in common except our off-spring? Perhaps we will talk about the puppy I adopted to avoid the complete empty nest. I don’t know, I will have to wait and see; we are all in this together. Together but alone.

Last year we adjusted when our first born son went to college and the three of us shifted in our dynamics, making more time to chat with our daughter, our “baby” and watched her grow an incredible amount. Dynamics between siblings are often fraught with competition and jealousy. It was nice to see our daughter for one year sans her older brother. I am the younger sister too, I understand her feelings.

We will watch them grow up through tales of college and on vacation, perhaps they will see us in a different light, slightly removed. It’s not a bad thing, it can be a very positive and mature thing. Maybe they will appreciate us more or understand one day in the future, what it is like to be a parent. To love a child so unconditionally, with every fiber of your being that while the umbilical cord is cut, the attachment is forever. I hope they understand one day what it is like to be a parent and even more, I pray that I am alive to see it. I hope to be sitting on the lumpy beige sofa with matching fluffy yellow and red pillows with you, my dear husband, chatting, joking and whispering to each other about what OUR children were like, joking with our grandchildren: because once your own parenting days are over it feels “So good to be remembered when outgrown.” It is their job now to parent, not ours any longer, we have moved out of the inner circle to the outer circle and we need to accept that as graciously as we possibly can. It all falls under the circle of life. People change; we all do, we must accept it, not fight with it, with God’s blessings. Amen.

Happy Birthday, Son

Image via Wikipedia

It’s two days before my son’s 19th birthday and for the first year ever, he’s not with me, his mom and his family. It’s his first year of college and he is having an incredible time; I couldn’t be happier. But, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss him today and that the thought of him made me cry with selfish sadness. I feel sentimental about my boy, now a fine young man, and I have to get used to the fact that he will be spending his birthdays partying with his friends for many years to come. I know his family is still important but we are in the background now and one day in the future he will celebrate his birthday with his own family.

He is perfectly fine spending his birthday away from his family, it’s just me feeling a little blue. Can you blame me? Wasn’t it just yesterday that I shopped for Thomas the Tank Engine? Or even the horrible fighting games for X Box 360 that we reluctantly bought him when he was older?

I know he still remembers his favorite surprise “Batman” party when he was four when his cousin and his aunt flew up for the party; that was an event he will always remember. Our daughter, his little sister, was terrified of “Batman” and clung to our mother’s helper, Erin, for dear life. He went from “Batman” to beer in a hurry, it seems. I guess I haven’t completely caught up.

Of course I sent him a birthday box last week with sweet treats and a card with a check but I just feel something is missing. That something is him. Right about now I would have been wrapping packages and scurrying to find the special cards that I bought and saved. We would put his presents on the “birthday table” and wait for him to wake up and find them. The whole family would always crowd around the birthday girl or boy, mom and dad. It was always a lot like Christmas every year. Birthdays are really big in our house. Huge.

So on Thursday, I will be wishing my first-born a happy birthday over the phone; I’m scared to “skype” with him because I think I will cry. No matter what, even if I say one word, he will know my infamous “shaky voice” and I don’t want to share that with him on his birthday, his special day. That’s just the type of kid he is, he picks up other people’s feelings in a second, picks up on the same emotional radar that I have. I love you for being a great kid and a wonderful young man. I’m happy and proud to call you my son.

Happy Birthday

Love Always, Mom