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Showing posts from October, 2012

O2

It isn't good news. I wanted to suck it up and not feel it yet. But that didn't work so well last time. Last time I didn't cry for three months. Last time I told everyone I was fine. Because if you don't feel it, its not real. Yesterday, after consciously deciding NOT to feel the news seeping out of the receiver of my phone from the sleep doctor with twenty five years of experience. I changed my mind. I called my husband. I told my parents. I shared with many of my friends. I shared my sadness and disbelief that I, as a mother have to endure with this situation. A situation so sad, frightening and slow that it requires that I feel each stage of progression. There's the "special chair", the special needs stroller, the stander, the  turny seat for my van, the wheelchair, the bath lift, the ramp in the garage, the AFO's, the feeding tube, the suction machine, the shell, the knee immobilizers and now the oxygen tank. We discovered that Dermot has sever