"JJ no house his car"

That is something that will stay with me for a long time. SS went to bed late last night. JJ needed to leave by at least 8:30 a.m. to make sure he was on time for work at noon. I went to bed very late, but was up early, to make sure JJ did not oversleep. JJ obviously does fine without my help, but you know, that mother thing that never goes away. That is, if you have that mother thing to begin with. Not a judgment thing, because sometimes I wish I could let the mother thing go. Not only with JJ, even with SS.

I should know better, but that human thing gets in the way. I usually wake up SS, or have JJ hug and kiss her, and put her back in bed. Not today, no, I wanted SS to rest and did not listen to my gut. Frankly, is not my fault, my gut has gone through some significant changes in the last two months. So for all I know maybe it is defective.

What my tired, old brain did not factor was that SS would not only miss JJ but P. SS has had "moments" of missing P, but so far we can make it better with a quick phone call, video from P, or P just coming home. That does not work when JJ is on his way to work, and no way can we see him. SS woke up, we cuddled, she went looking for her brother, and when she made sure he was not hiding in every place she looked, she broke down. I wish it was the whinny routine, or the you will feel my wrath routine. SS was devastated and wept. Crap, am I ever going to get this mother thing? "JJ no house his car" means, "No, JJ did not go to his house in his car." There's that car thing again.

I hate those really hurtful tears. I can deal with snippy, whinny, manipulative and even full out aggression. Hurt? I thought my job was to take the hurt away, to just kiss it and make it better. I better look for another job.

I had another appointment with Dr. S and thought we'd meet P at the office. And because it came up recently, I am PERFECTLY CAPABLE of going to appointments (mine and SS's) on my own. It is P's sole decision and issue (there has to be one) about being there (and appreciated). He surprised me by coming home early. That helped SS's mood, but she was hypersensitive the rest of the day. What makes matters worse is that the staff at the office are enamored with SS and she can do no wrong. So P and I try to keep her from destroying the examination room, while they allow her to touch everything. Not a good combination.

Dr. S informed us that the compound pharmacist is confident that he can combine the steroid with the hypoallergenic adhesive paste. Insurance does not cover compounds (nor hypoallergenic paste), and he has no idea how much it would cost (first for him). Before I could respond (yes, I do have that capacity as well), P cut me off and told Dr. S to just get it done. BTW, that is exactly what I was going to say. Snort!

Dr. S is pleased with the improvement on my skin from the steroids. She got major brownie points by stating that she was trying to get me off them ASAP, because she knew what they did to me, and how I felt about those side effects. The thing is that my skin still burns like a mother sucker, but she knows what she sees.

We dropped off my only tube of hypoallergenic paste to the compound wizard and now wait for his phone call. Good thing that Nurse V is coming tomorrow. I return to see Dr. S on January 4. I am in my version of hell, medical care (albeit competent) up my a$$. Poor SS is so freaking comfortable in Dr. S's office, has a rapport with the staff, and knows how a stethoscope, thermometer and blood pressure cuff work. That is in addition to knowing what a C-bag, stoma, wound and incisions are. Wrong, oh so wrong.

Wrong, but I still take her picture whenever I can. If she grows up to hate medical settings, I have evidence why. Same if she loves it and makes it a career. Win win for me.






At the pharmacy. Some middle age dude was cracking up over the tiny girl in love with the train table. Dude, she is going to grow up to like what she likes, no gender stereotypes to keep her down.