This summer hasn’t been going along as I planned. There is schoolwork I would like done, organizing I want to be doing. We haven’t made it to the beach yet. We still need to pick blueberries (quickly, before the season is over). Instead we’ve had too many doctor’s visits, the nevery-ending-room-swap-project. I really want to get a jumpstart on planning homeschooling for the fall. Our debt reduction is coming along too slowly (I have to remind myself we have paid for a wedding in cash, managed to get Judah and Tilly on their Teen Missions trips and are doing some necessary house maintinence…all while slowly reducing our debt).
Apollo is again having frequent stridor. I am worried about his upcoming surgery, mainly because we won’t know exactly what is going to be done until he is under anesthesia and the ENT does the sleep endoscopy and bronchoscopy. I don’t know whether to hope he still has significant laryngomalacia so it can be surgically fixed…or hope it has improved and he doesn’t need his larynx trimmed (regardless of the results, he will be having his tonsils removed and any adenoids that have grown back).
I am in the midst of writing a medical memoir of our journey through the maze of our modern medical system. You think I’ve shared a lot on this blog? There is so much that has never been said here for a variety of reasons, but those events and conversations will be in my book, I assure you.
I take copious notes at each doctor’s visit, and going over every blog entry written about Apollo, every note taken and every page of his medical records is emotionally taxing. When you see it laid out in a four-year time line, it is astounding to see how obvious his problems were from the very beginning and is mind-boggling that it took 18 months for a diagnosis. Medical missteps and errors are glaring. Apollo’s medical records conflict with themselves, with what the doctors have said and with his actual anatomy.So nothing has gone as I planned. It is discouraging. I’m pretty sure I have tendonitis (in my left elbow, of all places) and need to get in to see my doctor, but haven’t had time. This makes it nearly impossible for me to: fold laundry, carry a laundry basket, do dishes or do much of anything with my left arm (any movement is extremely painful). Add that to my teens all being gone (Enoch and Kalina are house sitting) and it is leaving me short-handed and short-armed.
Thankfully, I have these faces to look at. The kids are, I believe, having a fabulous summer. Berry picking, swimming, trips to the lake. Ice cream making, popsicle devouring. They aren’t missing the math drills or handwriting practice. They are experiencing the age-old joy of long, lazy summer days.
So I am soaking in their faces and their laughter. Remembering how endless the possibilities seem when you are eight or nine and have the whole summer stretched out before you. When anything is possible.
Because really, it is.