Monday, 7 January 2013

the other shoe

I guess many, if not most, parents of children with additional needs go through phases when things are rumbling along okay, and times when things are more difficult.  I know that with Smiler if everything has been going well, in the back of my mind I start waiting for the other shoe to drop ~ for something to go wrong.  

* * * * *

I don't mean a cold or an unexpected growth spurt, or for him to decide he has to have the sun blind down whenever he's in the car.  

I mean an ordinary annual cardiac review when the consultant takes that bit too long listening to Smiler's chest, sits down, leans back in his chair, and cleans his glasses.  Next he takes a deep breath, clears his throat, picks up his pen, puts it down again, and then finally ... finally ... makes eye contact with you.

* * * * *

You can clench your teeth so hard that your jaw aches, close your eyes so tightly that your nose scrunches up, stick your fingers in your ears and hum, or run screaming from the room ~ it won't make any difference.

* * * * *

So you blink a few times, til the tears are gone.
You take a slow deep breath.
In, out.
You look the doctor in the eye.
"Now what?"

No comments:

Post a Comment

If reading this has made you smile, or left you feeling sad; if you're fuming in anger, or shaking your head in disgust; if you'd like to share something, or just want to say hi, please do so here. Thank you.