I am, in fact, drowning in the sheer volume of crisis that are still barraging me from every single direction.
As I mentioned in my last post, my parents were returning, and they did. Their flight from JFK Airport departed at 9 in the morning, and since they lived with my brother around Valley Forge, PA, I had to get from Cherry Hill, NJ over there and then to the airport, and back home. I departed my house at 3am Sunday morning, drive the hour it takes me to get to my parents, load up their luggage, and then drive the two and a half hours to the airport, and then drive back. All on three and a half hours of sleep.
This was all preceded by my daughter burning a 102 degree F temperature the night before (Saturday), followed closely by my son who burned a 101 Sunday night. Monday came and went with me battling exhaustion and two sick children with my husband, and now it’s Tuesday morning.
And my son’s temperature just fell from nearly 100 degrees F to 96.5 degrees.
This is where I queue the music for a heart attack and a frantic call to my pediatrician’s office.
Last week, because my parents had shopping to do before returning, I spent every available hour my children were in school driving nearly a hundred miles at least once a day, sometimes I have to make the trip twice, and trying to keep everything afloat at the cost to my own rest (and health).
That’s nothing new. I’ve been there before, done it, and well… probably got a little too cocky on how well I handled stress in my younger days *cough*.
The screaming fits from my darling little girl that starts from the moment she wakes to the moment she sleeps again has rendered me partially deaf in both ears, nuked my patience into orbit never to be seen or heard from again until at a much later date, and the stress has relocated my appetite to Pluto.
That’s right. NASA’s projects have nothing on me.
I have another pediatrician’s appointment later this afternoon, which marks this the 10th(?) trip this year AND my health insurance plan will not be covering costs for any of this until I’ve paid for no less than USD4000 out-of-pocket deductible. I’m about half-way there at this point…
That nice figure doesn’t include the prescription medication my son needs… at USD200 a pop for a two-week regimen which I have to do for a month. Ever wonder what one could do with USD400?
Although, to be honest, being able to breathe for the low, low price of USD200 per packet seems rather cheap seeing how important breathing is to being alive and what not.
I’m desperately trying to keep my depression and monsters at bay, but I’ve ran out of strength to keep that door closed, at this point.
And I’m without a voice, literally, so my husband must accompany me to the pediatrician’s office to explain the symptoms.
So, Lavender Wynter is on hiatus from the world until further notice. The memoir will be posted this Saturday as scheduled, and I will still try to get everything up on a weekly basis, but all bets are off on everything else.
Let’s hope I survive this madness. I can still be reached via E-mail: firstname.lastname@example.org
See you all on the other side! Much love.