18 08 2010

I’d like to start this entry by thanking my generic adderall for helping things move along nicely this morning. Yes…I am starting a blog post with an allusion – not even a thinly veiled one – to bowel movements. I realize that this is not an allusion in the true sense of the word, well not unless I consider my digestive functionings to be well known historical events or literary works, but I like the way it sounds.

The alarm went off at 7am-ish this morning and I grumbled and moaned my way into sleeping for another 10 minutes or so. This caused just enough of a delay that I had to rush Rabid Hyena the Elder through his bath, dressing, breakfast and teeth brushing. I briefly considered crawling back into bed while I was making him his Carnation Instant Breakfast, but I brewed myself some coffee and popped my pills anyway. I am quite sure that a large cup of Kona blend mixed with a costco version of a slimfast shake really does not constitute a breakfast of champions, but I never claimed to be a champion of anything anyway, and it’s easier to suck that down then think about masticating. Coffeebreakfast. This is my new term for such a beverage.

So anyway, here I am waiting for my clothes to finish in the washer so I can toss them in the dryer then shower and head out to run errands. YES…I am leaving the house and it’s not just to take a child to or from school. Aren’t you proud of me? I also have to haul both kids to the doctor’s office after Rabid Hyena the Elder gets out of school. Rabid Hyena the Younger has an appt. for a physical. I know, it seems bizarre that a Virtual School would need such a thing, but it is a public school and I have to follow the rules.

I decided to not tell Rabid Hyena the Younger that he might have to have a booster shot…it seems better to leave that bit of info out so he doesn’t worry himself into an ulcer all day over the prospect of it. And he will…worry himself all day that is. He suffers from anxiety issues and even his medication won’t completely take the edge off of something like that. Case in point, he is absolutely terrified of the dentist, and really this is not an uncommon fear. I myself cannot stand the dentist’s office…I mean COME ON, that weird smell that assails your nostrils as soon as you walk in? That’s not dental medications, antiseptics or anesthesia…no, that’s the smell of PAIN. But his fear was completely irrational as he had never had anything more done to him but a cleaning. However, due to his high state of anxiety, when he did have to have a root canal and cap on a baby tooth (I had to have the same done when I was his age btw, and this accounts for my own dislike of dentists) he was given valium to calm him down. I gave it to him right before we left for the dentist and he turned into a giggling, boneless mass in the car ride there. I had to shuffle him in to the waiting room where he collapsed into a puddle of 7 year old silliness. Then he realized where we were and managed to stand up to pace the room like a panther, no stumbling, no swaying…it was very eerie. The dentist had opted to use conscious sedation for the procedure, and while under the influence of that AND valium, he still managed to bite the dentist hard enough to leave a mark and tear her glove a bit. So yeah, I think it’s best he not even know that he might get stuck with a needle until it’s actually in his arm. Distraction is the key.

I am sometimes still amazed at his level of natural anxiety, I mean I have never done a thing to make him that way, in fact most of the time I don’t coddle or baby him when he does have an over the top reaction because I feel he needs to realize just how atypical his reactions are. I try to help him work through them as best I can, but I don’t tip toe around him. But when I do wonder where he gets this high state of freakout to the ridiculous extreme, I have to think back on my mother-in-law who cannot do an open MRI without anxiety medication and even then it’s iffy whether she will make it through without demanding they stop. She cannot wear a seat belt in her car because it makes her hyperventilate and she has to know that she can unlock the doors at any given moment or she will panic. She still worries when the Rabid Hyena Pair have candy in their mouths, fearing that they will choke…they are 9 & 11. So yeah, I can totally see where this comes from, and it’s not because he spends a ton of time around her or anything…it’s just genetic. Unfortunately, she doesn’t take anything for her severe anxiety and consequently she is crippled by it. Oh wait, I am sorry, I forgot. Jesus helps her through it. But, as I can testify (ha ha…do you see what I did there?) jesus isn’t helping any at all.

Well I think I have wasted enough time that my clothes are ready for the dryer, and my coffeebreakfast is completely gone. Cheerio!




One response

18 08 2010

Nothing feels more like a betrayal of your sense of self preservation than allowing a person dressed like a demented space butcher to drug you, then stuff hands and sharp tools in your mouth.

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