So at OUR house... at 5am Lucy wakes up and makes all sorts of grumping noises for about an hour. Then at 9am if Jake is in "an episode" he cries and whines from 9:05 until 9:45. So I guess the increase in Zoloft has helped him get over most of the panic attacks, but it has not made the episodes go away completely..
and has anyone ever heard of lymphoid hyperplasia? I am not getting much information except it seems painful and cyclical... hmmm like my child's episodes? My God. What if it is some thing more than a biochemical issue? What if he has some very painful inflammation every six weeks.
I just doled out the advice that if you are wondering if you are a good mom, then you probably are. Bad moms never wonder at all.
I think I will take my own words of wisdom. I am doing the best that I can right? I picked a splinter out of Jake's foot this morning, do you know how hard it is to get an autistic monkey to sit still?...and I gave him his medicine in bed in some yummy vanilla whole fat yogurt. I am trying everything.
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just notes from jennyalice
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Thoreau
I went to the woods because
I wished to live deliberately,
to front only the essential
facts of life, and see if
I could not learn what
it had to teach, and not,
when I came to die,
discover that I had not lived.
I did not wish to live
what was not life,
living is so dear;
nor did I wish
to practise resignation,
unless it was quite necessary.
I wanted to live deep
and suck out all the marrow of life,
to live so sturdily and Spartan- like
as to put to rout all that was not life,
to cut a broad swath and shave close,
to drive life into a corner,
and reduce it to its lowest terms,
and, if it proved to be mean,
why then to get the whole and
genuine meanness of it,
and publish its meanness
to the world;
or if it were sublime,
to know it by experience,
and be able to give
a true account of it
in my next excursion.
I wished to live deliberately,
to front only the essential
facts of life, and see if
I could not learn what
it had to teach, and not,
when I came to die,
discover that I had not lived.
I did not wish to live
what was not life,
living is so dear;
nor did I wish
to practise resignation,
unless it was quite necessary.
I wanted to live deep
and suck out all the marrow of life,
to live so sturdily and Spartan- like
as to put to rout all that was not life,
to cut a broad swath and shave close,
to drive life into a corner,
and reduce it to its lowest terms,
and, if it proved to be mean,
why then to get the whole and
genuine meanness of it,
and publish its meanness
to the world;
or if it were sublime,
to know it by experience,
and be able to give
a true account of it
in my next excursion.
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there are only 15 minutes during the day when I really think we are not going to make it.
then minute 16 comes and we are all going to be
okay.
email me
thejennyalice at gmail.com