We are incredibly close to being able to begin cannabis therapy for Rachel.
We have an MRI and AEEG scheduled for next week, and then Rachel can get her eyebrow pierced, which was supposed to be a birthday present, and we can visit the dispensary, and pick up our first dose of her meds.
Conflicted, nervous, anxious, excited, and so many more feelings flailing around in my head like a ping pong ball in a box.
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Friday, January 10, 2014
Courage
I have always been concerned about what other people think of me. I know there are people out there who don't worry about that, who go through life doing what feels right to them, and living happy lives.
As a parent, I've been over-protective and over-critical, and I hate that. Now that Rachel is an adult, I have to rein in my impulse to correct her behaviors and nag about everything from how often she bathes to whether she needs a haircut. I hate this about me, I really do.
My mother was very much the same way, but I was more compliant than Rachel is. I've managed to do the impossible, and raise a child who is an independent thinker, while she's being harped on to be like everyone else. Poor kid. :(
Rachel doesn't worry about how people see her. She doesn't care if her jeans are a little too short, or her hair isn't combed before she goes out. She doesn't wear makeup except for really special occasions and, at age 19, still loves her graphic t-shirts.
I want to be Brave, with a capital B. I want to move through my life with confidence, unconcerned with the opinions of others. I want to say what needs to be said, unafraid of the consequences, and ready to act on what I feel is right, instead of backing down.
I'm going to have my chance to do just that on Jan. 16th, at Rachel's next neuro appointment. I'm going to lay out my plan for beginning cannabis therapy for Rachel, and as much as I hope the neuro is understanding, and doesn't just fire us outright, we're going to do this. If he fires us, we'll find another neuro, but in my heart, I know this is the next thing we need to try.
As a parent, I've been over-protective and over-critical, and I hate that. Now that Rachel is an adult, I have to rein in my impulse to correct her behaviors and nag about everything from how often she bathes to whether she needs a haircut. I hate this about me, I really do.
My mother was very much the same way, but I was more compliant than Rachel is. I've managed to do the impossible, and raise a child who is an independent thinker, while she's being harped on to be like everyone else. Poor kid. :(
Rachel doesn't worry about how people see her. She doesn't care if her jeans are a little too short, or her hair isn't combed before she goes out. She doesn't wear makeup except for really special occasions and, at age 19, still loves her graphic t-shirts.
I want to be Brave, with a capital B. I want to move through my life with confidence, unconcerned with the opinions of others. I want to say what needs to be said, unafraid of the consequences, and ready to act on what I feel is right, instead of backing down.
I'm going to have my chance to do just that on Jan. 16th, at Rachel's next neuro appointment. I'm going to lay out my plan for beginning cannabis therapy for Rachel, and as much as I hope the neuro is understanding, and doesn't just fire us outright, we're going to do this. If he fires us, we'll find another neuro, but in my heart, I know this is the next thing we need to try.
cour·age
[kur-ij, kuhr-] Show IPA
noun
Idioms
1.
the quality of mind or spirit that enables a person to face difficulty, danger, pain, etc., without fear;bravery.
2.
Obsolete . the heart as the source of emotion.
3.
have the courage of one's convictions, to act in accordance with one's beliefs, especially in spite of criticism.
Monday, January 6, 2014
"Rachel is so lucky to have you for a mom!"
Who wouldn't want to be told what a great parent they are? Who doesn't want to think that their kids are lucky for having them as parents? Who doesn't want everyone to know how hard they work to do what's best for their kids?
Me. I get really uncomfortable when somebody tells me how lucky my kid is for having me, and what a great job I'm doing as her parent. I tend to think of it as a backhanded compliment of some kind. Like it's a surprise that I turned out to be more than simply competent. It's possible I'm over-thinking this, but every time it happens I'm sort of gobsmacked, and usually can manage to mutter out a brief thank-you.
Rachel has epilepsy. She had her first seizure at age 8, and we've been struggling for answers and treatment that works for almost 11 years now. Her seizures are poorly controlled, and have led to an anxiety/panic disorder, and a feeling of isolation. We work hard to make sure she socializes as much as possible, and doesn't end up a hermit.
Lately I've been doing tons of research on cannabis therapy, following other parental blogs, Facebook groups, and friends who are already using this therapy for their kids. The next step is getting Rachel her MMJ card, and finding a steady supply of high-quality meds for her. Of course, we have to be able to pay for it, so that's also an issue.
It's work, but definitely a labor of love. Rachel deserves the best life we can help her achieve. She recently was very abruptly dumped by her boyfriend of almost 3 years. It was heartbreaking for her, and infuriating for her parents. This boy was always someone we approved of, who treat her very well, until he didn't, and it was confusing for all of us.
No more waiting around to see what happens with their relationship, so we are moving forward, full steam ahead, and helping our girl achieve independence, and a sense of who she is, without waiting for a white knight to rescue her. She will be her own hero, and forge her own path. To wait for some guy to come along who wants to be a caregiver for a grown woman is to rob Rachel of the dignity she needs to be a fully formed woman.
I don't think I would want to know a parent who wouldn't do these things for their child. I don't think I'm a hero because I do them. I know I've made mistakes. I know we've been over-protective, even before the seizures started. I also know that I want Rachel to know her own power, to trust her own instincts, to believe in herself.
Mostly, I know how lucky I am to have this girl for my kid.
Me. I get really uncomfortable when somebody tells me how lucky my kid is for having me, and what a great job I'm doing as her parent. I tend to think of it as a backhanded compliment of some kind. Like it's a surprise that I turned out to be more than simply competent. It's possible I'm over-thinking this, but every time it happens I'm sort of gobsmacked, and usually can manage to mutter out a brief thank-you.
Rachel has epilepsy. She had her first seizure at age 8, and we've been struggling for answers and treatment that works for almost 11 years now. Her seizures are poorly controlled, and have led to an anxiety/panic disorder, and a feeling of isolation. We work hard to make sure she socializes as much as possible, and doesn't end up a hermit.
Lately I've been doing tons of research on cannabis therapy, following other parental blogs, Facebook groups, and friends who are already using this therapy for their kids. The next step is getting Rachel her MMJ card, and finding a steady supply of high-quality meds for her. Of course, we have to be able to pay for it, so that's also an issue.
It's work, but definitely a labor of love. Rachel deserves the best life we can help her achieve. She recently was very abruptly dumped by her boyfriend of almost 3 years. It was heartbreaking for her, and infuriating for her parents. This boy was always someone we approved of, who treat her very well, until he didn't, and it was confusing for all of us.
No more waiting around to see what happens with their relationship, so we are moving forward, full steam ahead, and helping our girl achieve independence, and a sense of who she is, without waiting for a white knight to rescue her. She will be her own hero, and forge her own path. To wait for some guy to come along who wants to be a caregiver for a grown woman is to rob Rachel of the dignity she needs to be a fully formed woman.
I don't think I would want to know a parent who wouldn't do these things for their child. I don't think I'm a hero because I do them. I know I've made mistakes. I know we've been over-protective, even before the seizures started. I also know that I want Rachel to know her own power, to trust her own instincts, to believe in herself.
Mostly, I know how lucky I am to have this girl for my kid.
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