Had our appointment today with the great Dr. McCracken at UCLA. Stink is still thriving on meds. We are going to push the meds up to 3/day instead of just 2.
“Why” I asked. He’s doing so well.
“He is,” was the response, “But let’s be sure to find our ‘sweet spot’ and then we can just settle in. Call if there are any issues at all.”
“Like him not waking up from a dead sleep?” I eye balled him carefully.
“That won’t be an issue at all,” he promised. He said the worst thing Stink would do is faint or get super tired.
Ironically, Stink has not been all that exhausted with the first and second round of pills. Perhaps he was operating at a more “hyper” level than I even imagined. He’s not a kid to climb the walls, but clearly his brain was going going going and now he’s able to channel his energy so much better.
I think often of how much my own brain churns and spins. When I’m writing my blog, or writing stories for a living, I am at rest. But when my brain is left to roam and create characters out of their own wonky thought patterns, things feel more unwieldy. This is even more reason for
major drugs for me a meditation practice. To slow down the thoughts and focus on what is really most important.
In closing, I took a few additional kids to UCLA with me today as I had promised to watch them. Their father, a talented artist, had a presentation to give to Disney on animation and drawing.
As the kids played handball out back, the dad and I had a long discussion in my living room about his day, as well as my book. I told him about an idea I had about “The Hero.” It dawned on me yesterday, during my writing day with Topanga T, that everyone loves watching adventure movies. It’s thrilling and enlightening and inspiring. But watching an adventure, and actually living one, are two different things.
Having a special needs kid is similar to going on a monumental adventure. All of us have to be heroes.
Heroes are not inherently brave. They don’t have all the answers. They are filled with fear and doubt as they chart out new territories and encounter dragons and monsters of the internal and external kind. What makes someone a hero is wanting to freak out and die but going through with it anyway because so much is at stake.
All of you, my dears, are heroes. Like Dorothy in the wizard of Oz, you’ve been called on an adventure you never expected to be on, but you’re there none the less. You can do this. And so can I.
Until next time, have fun on that Yellow Brick Road. Ah, hell, skip on down it if you want to.