That last entry
really took it out of me. Hence the weeklong silence - although I did discover that leaving those entries up there for so long sometimes draws out some new commenters (breaking the uncomfortable silence?).
So I was a bit sad and also a bit busy. We had the filming of the organ donation PSA here on Friday. I had envisioned having lots and lots of post-transplant kids frolicking joyfully in our background (filmed through a vaseline-smeared lens, of course), but in the days before the actual filming, all the kids cancelled except for Joey, a boy about Annika's age, and Jorie, a fantastic woman who was transplanted as a child 21 years ago
Of course, that's the way it goes when you're dealing with post-transplant kids. Your situation can change overnight. And it's not just your child's health, although that does always feel like a tightrope act, but also all the emotional and financial stress that just naturally come along. Still, I was disappointed, and a little worried that so much would now depend upon Annika saying something that didn't make it sound like standard post-transplant care includes putting kids on LSD or other mind-altering substances (standard Annika quote: "You have the Pusky Power!" or "Darn it, Bandit Me!").
Luckily the other 4-year-old, Joey, was not camera-shy in the least (once his parents left the room, that is), and didn't display any tendency to speak in his own private made-up language. And he was just unbelievably cute and dimply. Annika avoided looking at the camera as much as possible, and completely freaked when they tried to put the microphone on her (I should have explained that one to her beforehand, as she has the typical overly-hospitalized child's fear of people attaching things to her person). The (reporter?/producer?) T.V. woman was quite good with kids, though, so she just put the microphone on herself and sat on the floor near Annika, while still remaining out of the shot. Annika was not being very cooperative until we hit upon the idea of having her "read" her favorite stories for Melinda (TV woman). Finally she seemed to forget the camera was there and, although her stories were sometimes a bit disjointed, she did look up and give the cameraman a big smile as she pronounced, "And they lived happily ever after!" Now if they can't use that in a PSA designed to emphasize the happy success of organ transplants (which is how Melinda explained her concept to me), well then I don't know what to say.
Annika's going to swim lessons 4 days a week. Yes, 4. But I was pretty sure that was the only way she was going to make any progress, as the 6 once-weekly lessons that we took at the Y seemed to have no impact whatsoever. She has already passed to the second level, and even went off the diving board last week (when I didn't have my camera with me - can't they just implant that thing somewhere in my arm or hand?) after only 7 lessons and she was the only one in her class brave enough to take the plunge.
Linguistics Degree at work (No, those weren't wasted years! They weren't!): Frankie's begun pronouncing Consonant-Vowel-Consonant clusters. So, for example, "milk" has gone from "muh" to "muhk". Actually, it has gone from "muh" to "muhccccccchhhhhhhhh," with that last consonant sounding like the back-of-the-throat gargle of the German "ch," as in "Bach," but pronounced by an American who is way too concerned about staying true to the correct German pronounciation and so drags out that last sound much too long for comfort. That's what she sounds like. Yay, Frankie!
Finally, a special section called
The Most Ludicrous Reason to Sob Big Fat Tears of Sorrow
(age 1 1/2):
Your book won't stay open
(OPEN! OPEN! OPEN!
)when you remove your hands from the pages.
(age 4 1/2):
Your mom tells you that you will be on T.V. ("But how
will I get out
? I want to stay with you
Tie: Your $20 MP3 player, which you have been anxiously awaiting and bragging about for days like the loser cheapskate you are, doesn't actually produce any sound detectable by the human ear, although the display is nifty.
OR Someone sends you an email denigrating your suggestion for a textbook as "inappropriate" on the same evening that you watch that PBS special
that again trots out the (accurate, but nonetheless painful) assessment that adjuncts are bad for the University system in this country. (Yup, I'm an adjunct with no prospect of non-adjunctness.)
Alright, I didn't actually
cry about those last two. The first two, though, are actual genuine tear-producing events of cataclysmic proportions. So, anyone have any other good ones to add to the comments section?