Closing Another Month...with a 12?

What is it with me and this 12 posts in a month? I have got to pick up the pace. Out of the last 8 months, 5 of them have 12 posts in a month. Would have been 6, fell short by ONE POST last month.

Now, granted, my posts can get a little...wordy. (YA THINK!?!) So while I could probably double my monthly average by simply cutting each post in half (I probably cover multiple subjects most of the time anyway) and posting the text on different days well then...there ya go, problem solved.

I've tried doing that.

Hard.

Damn hard.

Goes against my nature. And didn't Shakespeare write, 'This above all: to thine own self be true.' Actually yeah, he wrote that, but us modern day hippies and New Agers are the ones who use it as a stepping stone to conversations about self-actualization. In the play Hamlet, the dude who spoke the line was really telling his son to hold on to his cash and take care of his own needs first.


Those wacky Elizabethans.

See? That's why I'm 'Mister 12'. VERY easy for me to ride off on any tangent that comes along. Look at me! Weeeeee!!!!

Oh well, I guess it's just how I roll.

OK, so fuck Strep Throat.

Let's just get that out of the way right now. Eventually my fevers stopped, by Thursday, and while it still feels like I am swallowing nails and glass, the nails are smaller, the glass is more rounded and it isn't being served in a bowl of hot, fresh, liquid magma.


Fatigue? Got lots of that though. And weakness. The grass is in need of its first of many cuttings to come, so I have had to tackle it in stages. I did half yesterday afternoon, about to start the other half now. But I'm tired even thinking about it. I have Spring allergies, did I mention those? And going out there makes the existing condition of my congestion and my itchy, irritated throat much, much less fun.

I mentioned in Wednesday's post about stuff coming out of me that was startling. I wasn't kidding. I grabbed that oyster shot as a hoot, a lark. Nothing like that, at least nothing that large, had yet been expunged. Well, something came out of me that had me wondering if it was SUPPOSED to have come out.


I swear to God it looked like something out of The X-Files or Fringe or something. I photographed it, that's how large and how...how do I put this...crazy looking it was. Still feels like there is more back up in there too. But could be my imagination.

Jen says I should not show those pics. She says emphatically 'Don't do it just don't do it.' Not sure how I feel. They are pretty crazy. One reader has seen them. She thought they were pretty horrible too. Believe it or not, maybe some things are NOT meant to be shared.

Maybe I really have been replaced by some Squid Guy or something?

Anyway, off to get pollinated on.

OUT.

Why Do People Say 'Sick As a Dog?'

You ever wondered that? I have. And as a former dog owner, of several magnificent dogs and even of a couple of terrific cats I have to confess...they hardly ever got sick. We had a few dogs in our lives...and here's a few. I left some out, simply because there is just no need, let's stick with the Hall of Fame.

There was this one, who I call 'Name Unknown', cause I have NO Idea if that was even our dog...


Then of course Scoshee, a peekaneese I think, he was mainly Pat's dog.


Raven, a runt of the litter from a litter of Labs, LONG before Baltimore even had a football team back in town.


Then came Paisley, the first dog that I ever took care of on my own, what a beauty she was.


Then Explodey, the first cat I ever cared for on my own.


And then Whopper, a dog my Mom picked up years later right around the taking of this photo and nearing the end of the marriage to Pat Lilly. That's me holding my niece.


And then last but not least, Parker...good old hyper-spastic separation-anxiety ridden PArker. She was Jen's baby before Jen had babies.


But that expression...sick as a dog...do dogs always get sick?

I mean, yeah sure, I'd often come home to some dog barf that had maybe an entire Summer Sausage (you know, the kind you get in those Christmas gift baskets that you really don't want but you accept graciously anyway, knowing goddamn well you won't eat half the things in there and most of it is getting tossed).

So your dog has KIND OF done you a favor, you're not mad, you just have some nasty clean-up ahead, cause he consumed wrappings and all and maybe with some of the surrounding cheeses, but I don't consider that sick, that's just typical canine lack of self-control whenever their master leaves yummy delicious people food within their range.


But sick as a dog? Where did the phrase come from? OK, so I looked around, and I actually am not far off it seems. I liked this answer the best, so I am going with it.

Didn't say who the actual 'Author' was, just gave a screen name of 'Spamgirl'. I'm assuming that refers to the type of junk mail we receive and not the mystery meat in a can. Though I think she lifted it from someone else sited called Word Detective, and I am lifting it here, so we have a Triliftology thing going on.

Dear Word Detective: I was recently sick as a dog, and in my fevered state I began to wonder why we use that phrase. I know that "dog" has long been used in the sense of "bad" ("dog days," "dog tired," etc.), but when did people start saying "sick as a dog" and just why is dog used in this negative sense? I thought dogs were man's best friend. I thought you might be able to shed (ha ha) some light on this issue. -- Lisa Krause, Huntington, MA.

Ha ha indeed. I take it you don't live in a house with two dogs, three cats and enough pet fur flotsam come spring to knit a whole new poodle. And I'll bet you never had to call a computer service to replace your CD-ROM drive because it was clogged with excess cat pelt. What genius designed computers to be big stationary vacuum cleaners, anyway? Something tells me Michael Dell owns goldfish.

Given their devotion to us, you're right, dogs have gotten a bad press. "Dogs of war," "going to the dogs," "hair of the dog that bit you," "dog in the manger" and the like are hardly compliments to our canine pals. ("Dog days," however, is not especially negative, as it referred originally to the ascendancy of Sirius, the "Dog Star," during the hottest days of summer.)

"Sick as a dog," which means "extremely sick" and dates back to at least the 17th century, is also not so much negative as it is simply descriptive. Anyone who knows dogs knows that while they can and often will eat absolutely anything, on those occasions when their diet disagrees with them the results can be quite dramatic. And while Americans may consider themselves "sick" when they have a bad cold, in Britain that would be called "feeling ill." "Being sick" in Britain usually means "to vomit."

So to really appreciate the original sense of "sick as a dog," imagine yourself seated in the parlor having tea with the Vicar on a lovely Sunday afternoon, when Fido staggers in from a meal of sun-dried woodchuck and expresses his unease all over your heirloom oriental carpet. It's actually rather amazing that goldfish aren't more popular.

Don't you just love coming here to learn new fun facts with your Uncle Ken?

Anyway, I'm sick as a fuckin' dog.

After I wrote Monday's post, within a half an hour things radically changed for me. I thought I had recovered 100% from being sick. Not by a damn sight. Suddenly my neck was looking like Edgar's in Men in Black and my head was pounding. Had mucho problems sleeping that night. Next day, back to the doc.


I figured maybe since Allergy Season hit right when this viral thing hit me that MAYBE I was getting double whammied. I've also begun to seriously question the air quality inside our home (more on that down the road). But in any case, he decides to run another strep test. Remember he last one came up negative.

This one did not. In fact, it came back positive so fast he had no doubt whatsoever. SO Antibiotics. Though Jen became concerned today when I called her; lying on the living room floor, fever back up in the 103 range, and I could barely speak (hey maybe she thought I was flirting). I had nearly passed out. I do that when I get severe nausea.

See, I am not 100% sure I have ever had true Strep as an adult. Because this is all new territory. There is no mucus coming out of my nose like there was for the last two weeks. It will only go inward. When it does, it goes down into my upper throat, gets caught up in my junk, and I start to have to gag out the mucus. Not cough cause the throat is so raw my body resists coughing...it starts the gag reflex, until some (sorry, you can skip this part) some thick bloody, snotty, oyster looking thing comes shooting out of mouth into whatever I am spitting it into.


I know...hey you think I'M not horrified by that? Get in line. And I used to LOVE oysters.

So I'm lying on my back looking up at the ceiling fan, wondering if I am going to pass out, thinking about my life, my kids, all the things that just keep getting so messed up. I wonder if this house, and it's problems, are contributing to the respiratory issues we ALL seem to be having. And don't think for a second that I haven't sat there and wondered if something in the air of this house might be responsible for what is essentially attacking my mother. Who knows? Maybe the builders cut SO many corners in the house there are things I don't even know about yet just waiting to throw me yet another curve-ball that hits the dirt and goes right up into my nuts.

Won't matter though...as of last week, Maronda Homes started bankruptcy proceedings...I doubt we are going to be about to go after them for any of this, and we are looking at a significant amount of work. I'll save that for another topic, but needless to say, it is always on my mind, this house and what it might have done to Bennett, or my mom, or me, because of shortcuts in workmanship.

Delirium can be a very strange and dangerous time to have thoughts like this.

I sounded very weird on the phone when I spoke to her, and she was getting concerned, so she, in a sort of 'GIVE MY DAUGHTER THE SHOT!!!' moment called my doctor to request that I given an oral steroid, to reduce the swelling in my tonsils and neck glads immediately, because I simply do not have an adequate space there to get enough oxygen in, and at night it closes up and wakes me up. If the steroids don't reduce the swelling, oh crap I'd have to go IN. And the LAST place you want to be when you are sick is in the Hospital.


Gettin' no sleep. Which helps NOT in recovering.

Anyway...tomorrow I want to talk about Carter and his Easter. And some other things. Some good stuff. Meanwhile, I'm going to go lay down.

OUT.

Was That a Pin I Just Heard?

Wow...so very, very quiet.

It has been...what, at least 10 days, maybe longer, since Bennett has been back at school. First because he was sick, then because of Spring Break. Now he's back, and the house is eerily quiet. I'll have to get back in the groove of turning the radio back on and junk. And back into a flow of work, writing and some other things.

I figured since I have had such a long absence though, might be a nifty idea to just spend this week updating where we are with various things, a sort of Let's Get Up to Speed on what is going down in Lillyville, point by point. No chaff, just pure wheat. Yummy.

Today's focus will be primarily on Bennett. Go figure.


Bennett is now back in school full-time. Sickness all gone. Had his yearly review at Step-by-Step Academy (SBSA) a couple of weeks back and did not meet a lot of his annual goals, but got close on many. Still has severe delays in many areas, as we all know, struggles with speech, communication, comprehension, is intellectually disabled and has issues with behavior, possible ADHD, Autism, controlled Epilepsy and still goes every 3-4 months for an MRI to check for brain tumor regrowth which, to date, there has been none.

But guess what? Kid had a HELLUVA nice Easter. Did he know it was Easter? No. Did he understand a thing about it? No. Was he happy and did he have a fuggin' blast? Yeah. He absolutely did. All his GREAT Easter photos were taken by other people. I focused on video, and it is all way too long to post up.


In one of my shinier moments, and I do have some, believe it or not, I turned to Jen a week or so ago and said 'Sometimes I think that, if Bennett never does understand the world around him, if he never has to feel the angst that I feel, never has to understand what it means to feel depression or feel worry about the Middle East or a Japanese Nuclear Power Plant blowing up...maybe that isn't such a bad thing after all.'

Rationalization? Maybe. Would I rather him HAVE the angst instead of the oblivion? Yeah, I suppose so. But I was, at the time, thinking of Bennett as just, well, Bennett. And considering certain aspects of his, let's just call it his silver lining.

And yesterday, there was a lot of that silver lining shining through.


Bennett's new Behavioral Doc has switched to a second med to try. Clonidine. As you know, Ritalin did not work out so well. So we tried it over Spring Break. It essentially just knocks him out. Doesn't really deal with his behavior issues or his focus issues, unless by 'dealing' with those issues you want to define that as making him fall asleep. I'm not really that fond of it...so the jury is way, WAY out on this one. It isn't hurting him, it isn't lowering his BP too much...it just, in my opinion, is not SERVING him. Make sense? Much more on this subject later.

No sir, I don't like it.

Lastly, in Bennett related news, I gotta say something about this whole Home Health Aide situation.

It sucks.

Big time.

Remember I mentioned how excited I was that someone from Bennett's school, an actual person who knows a thing or two about ABA, would be coming to the house a couple of days a week, for a 2-3 hour chunk at a time, to help us with Bennett? Actually, I'm not sure I DID mention it. I just tried to look back for a link. I think I forgot to mention it. I meant to, and never got TO it in all the past three week's CHAOS.

While this would not solve our overall HHA issues, it would be a GIGANTIC help to me personally because it would finally allow me a chance to witness some of the way a BT (Behavoiral Therapist) works on 'dispersing' the aggressive behavoir without really 'reacting' to it.


This is something that I need to see, again and again, to be able to really get it worked into my system. So far? Honestly? I suck at it. I let my emotions get in the way. Period.

Anyway, started out strong. The BT came to the house, and the first night was gold. I learned a ton. Second time was great too. Learned a lot. Was hard to get the BT out here as often as we would like, because of her other commitments, but OK...I understand, you gotta wait. So there were a lot of re-schedules in the first two weeks or cancels.

Spring Break came up and I was excited...I would be here during the day watching Bennett, and get to catch a break so that I could get some work done. This was, sadly, not as much of an opportunity for me to observe, this was much more of a 'get as much shit as you can possibly get done in three hours' kind of situation, but I take what I can get.

Monday? Great, can't complain. Tuesday? Calls in sick. Wednesday? Sick. Thursday? No call, nothing. Obviously Friday no call either.


Who the fuck DOES this shit!?!

I was talking to my mother about this over the weekend. My mother, who taught me some pretty great things, and one of those things was WORK ETHIC. When I am getting paid to do something, I take it very seriously. I show up. I don't call in sick very often, if ever. I have a former boss who reads this who can attest to this. I work my ASS off. 9 to 5 is meaningless to me.

I would never, EVER, not in a million, ZILLION years, not show up for work and not call. If I did? My boss would start calling next of kin to find out what hospital I was in.

This really is indicative of why our country is headed for the poop chute my friends. Because more and more I am finding this not just in our search to find a decent Home Health Aide, but everywhere I go where there is any aspect of commitment or service or pride in one's job or career. It just ain't there.




It's very scary...and if something doesn't change, and I mean RADICALLY change...the United States will not be anything at ALL like it even is NOW 20, 30 years down the road. It may not even be the United States anymore.

Needless to say, I got nothing done during the week.

But you know what? Even though I continued to be sick (I think my 'viral' thing has passed but has in fact morphed into a sinus or throat infection of some kind) I did have a lot of fun with Bennett. I don't often get to put him down for naps...that was fun. We played a lot. That was fun. He laughed a lot. That was fun.


Overall? I just made the best of it, and as tired and wiped as I was/am (falling asleep in the early evening on the sofa AIN'T something I do often, so I know I am ill) I just decided that the week was not gonna be for working and it was gonna be for me and the Kid.

And it WAS fun...but oh SHIT have I got a ton of stuff I gotta do THIS week. Oy...

OUT.

I'm Alive...If You Call This Living

Reports of my death were greatly exaggerated.

And by the way, cause you know I love to teach y'all a thing or two, did you know that is NOT the exact quote of Mark Twain? And SingleDad will appreciate this, as he is the Batman villain known as The Quotester, but that Twain quote is so often mis-quoted it is SICK.

The ACTUAL quote is this. Check out the original note.


'The report of my illness grew out of his illness. The report of my death was an exaggeration.'

There is a whole back history to the tale, which I won't bore you with, but suffice it to say that I have been sick all week, and now, this week, we'll see if I have time to write as well. Because even as I have the lingering, snotty effects of whatever this shit has been that has ailed me still nipping at my soul, I also have another issue to contend with.


Bennett has Spring Break.

Which means it is neither a break nor Spring for Yours Truly.

There is SOME relief, in 2-3 hours each day of a part-time HHA who will be coming by to help during the peak of the day, but other than that it will be me and The Kid by ourselves. Jen can't really hang back and work from home like she did most of last week, since that backed her up as I was no help at all watching Bennett because I was operating at about 40%.

Since I am up to about 85% now, I can handle things on my own. Or I'll at least try to.


Gonna be a wild one, though, just with no chicks taking off their tops and beer being sprayed everywhere. I suppose me and Bennett could try playing Quarters with Chocolate Milk or something...but he'd just spin the Quarter and I'd end up drunk on Chocolate Milk.

OUT.

Conjuctivitis & Corporate Evil

So it wasn't Strep, as far as I know. The quick-swab test says no. Probably viral, says the doc, but he'll let me know what the main test says in two days. Gotta ride it out.

What a ride it has been so far. I had expressed solace to Elizabeth, in a message to her about something totally unrelated, that at least it hadn't affect either of my kids.

Well, I spoke too soon. Bennett is down. Hard. Same symptoms. If he feels like I do, no wonder he spends most of the time moaning.

In an interesting reversal, my immune system must be so decimated I got the Pink Eye he had last week. Must have been some residual part of it somewhere in the house that grabbed me, or I just got it from virus and the bacterial part came later. I was trying to read up on Conjunctivitis but got a wide variety of causes and finally said fuck it this is stupid. Since my defenses are so down? It took hold. Simple as that...I got it. Doesn't matter how. At around 4-ish yesterday I had green slime oozing out of my eyeballs.


That is freaky shit. Actually made Carter cry. Scared the piss out of him. BOTH my eyes looked worse than that above pic...some of the green would go from top to bottom of an open eye, much like how Bernie Wrightson would draw the rotten flesh over an animated corpse eye (only a select few will even know what the hell I am talking about, but I shit you not this is how it looked for a few hours. WEIRD.

I haven't had Pink Eye since I was a kid. You don't think about how weird it is when you are a kid. When you are an adult, it's just creepy and gross. You are essentially crying snot.

I'm already inundated with the stuff. I'm coughing it up, I'm blowing out major quantities of the stuff every fifteen minutes. It's nasty, nasty, nasty. And it NEVER SEEMS TO END. Where the hell is it coming from? And why is it not improving when I am doing all the right things?

More good news.


Remember I mentioned, in brief, we were having some issues with our house? And I mean, BIG issues with it? Well, half the info is in. DENIED by insurance. I'll know more on the other half in a few more days. My gut tells me that this too will be denied.

I don't know about you...but I don't have 25-30K just laying around the house to spend on repairs that aren't my fault. I always thought insurance was supposed to HELP people in need...I never realized until the past few years how it as designed really to do as little as it possibly can for you. The 'particulars' of the 'language' of the policy is really a bunch of fascinating bull-FUCKING-shit that I would love to blow my nose on right now.

Is insurance Evil Incarnate?

I dunno. Maybe not all of it. But can someone tell me why now, in 2011, all of a sudden MRI's are not fully covered by my son's Health Insurance? How does that make sense for a boy who relies on serialized MRI (which means 3-4 times a year) to make sure that a life-threatening brain tumor does not return AND KILL HIM?


Does it make sense that my Mom's house was broken into and robbed a few weeks ago? Yeah...forgot to tell you about that joyous little nugget. I mean, I pile enough crap on right? Thankfully they were not home, and even more thankfully, the nimrods who robbed the place appeared to be fairly stupid so they didn't actually get away with a lot of the really expensive stuff.

So my Mom and my Step-Dad (the newer cool one not the asshat dead one) file a claim, as they should, and a very minimal one, to recover the few things that were taken. They have never filed a claim before, and they certainly NEVER ASKED TO HAVE A CRIME COMMITTED AGAINST THEM.

And yet, what does the insurance company do?

Raises their premium.


Now you tell me...what level of Hell is reserved for the shitwit who came up with as Standard Operating Procedure at that company? I'd love to meet that guy. I'd like to walk up to him and ask him how in the name of fuck does he sleep at night knowing that he takes the money of people and if NOTHING EVER HAPPENS TO THEM he doesn't give them any of it back, but if some asshole criminal comes into my MOTHER'S home and steals from her, he thinks it is OK to raise HER rates?

There's something OK about that to him?

That's why this species is doomed. Because as long as anyone thinks like that, we will never be able to survive in a community together where people work together for the mutual benefit of the group overall, where everybody can be expected to be taken care of in a time of crisis.

Call me a Socialist if you want, I don't give a flying shit. I love this country's founding principle's, in theory anyway. But man oh man have we lost our way. But I guarantee you this...it's not a fucking democracy anymore either. It's an Oligarchy. And that's a fact.

Where the Hell was I?

Anyway...I am WAY off subject, if I ever actually had one to begin with. Probably should not blog when I feel this bad. Bottom line is...I feel like total crap, so does Bennett. Who's next in the house? And in the end...how much longer will we even have a house to get sick in?

Who even knows?

OUT

What What (in the Butt)?

I don't think you can say it any other (nice) way...this weekend sucked donkey balls.

After writing the post on Saturday describing how Bennett was going a thousand miles an hour on Ritalin, the exact opposite of what was intended, it got worse. He then had some kind of allergic reaction to the medication, and broke out in hives/welts.

Poor kid.

We got some Benadryl into him to try to relieve the reaction, and it seemed to help, and very quickly too. The photographs here show him five minutes into the Benadryl dose...


...and then ten minutes in.


Remarkable change, no? It worked fast and he seemed very relieved. So were his parents.

He eventually crashed and crashed hard. Slept a LONG time too. Probably the single longest stretch of time I've seen him sleep since...well, since he was in surgical recovery, and who wants to think about that?

He was back to his normal self by Sunday, which was unseasonably warm. Upper 70's.

I, on the other hand, was miserable. Felt like I was swallowing glass.


Back up a second. On Friday night I was unusually cold. Now I have to tell you how strange this is...THIS SIMPLY DOES NOT HAPPEN.

I wear shorts until well into snow falling on the ground and finally Jen is just too embarrassed and she makes me wear pants. But Friday, I could not get warm, so I had three shirts on...one long sleeve tee shirt, a pique-knit polo shirt and a very heavy pullover long-sleeve hoodie sweatshirt, and I was still cold.

But no fever. Weird, right? Saturday? Nuthin'. But then again...Saturday I was not focused on me at all.


But Sunday, I was much worse for wear, and today...awful. Can't say for sure I have Strep until I see the doctor later today, but I do have a couple of those little nasty whitish drainage patches on one of my tonsils. But not that many, so it could be a NON-Strep infection or no infection at all, just a bad cold that is doing a number on my throat, which is bleeding a little.

Ewwww...BUT...suffice it to say, WHATEVER it is, let's just hope that I can avoid what happened the LAST time my doctor prescribed an antibiotic to me, if indeed that ends up being what happens. Last thing in the world I want is to be back in the ER with another bloody butt problem.

I have a doctor's appointment, but it isn't until 5:30PM...that was the best I could get, so I took it.

When you are hanging on the edge of a cliff by your fingernails, you don't go waving your arms around.

What the hell did I just say? I need a nap.


I actually haven't seen him since that whole butt thing went down, so I'll be sure to tell him all the details (fun!) and ask him if he has a softer option than a Z-Pak, maybe Erythromycin, since I have taken that and tolerated that before. Actually, in defense of my doc, who I have always thought kicked ass, his choice to go with the Z-Pak made perfect sense, since Azithromycin is actually just a stronger type of Erythromycin and IN THEORY is supposed to have less gastrointestinal side effects.

And the truth is...it actually MIGHT have. There has been some debate about whether the antibiotic was the culprit at all in that whole mess. Instead, the leading conjecture now is that it is the fact that I was, shall we say...a bit tightly wound for a few days and then the sickness caused that explosive first salvo that we think ripped something internally.

Why does this make even more sense now that it did then?

Well, and I am so sorry, Mommies, for being so open about my BUTT, yet the truth is that ever since that...experience...I have had, how do I put this delicately, severe Roid Rage. I have had to take drastic measures to deal with them, more so than ever before. One of the Mommies who I have the pleasure of actually speaking with from time to time on the phone explained to me that this can be caused by extreme stress and sitting on your ass a lot.

Guess what two things are very prevalent in my life right now?


Anyway...see? This is why I should never write these posts when I am ill. I go way too far. My usually threadbare filters get stripped down to NUTHIN', and I just can't help myself. But Dayquil makes me feel very funky. That and the sickness itself just makes me feel woozy, dizzy, lightheaded and all-around crappy too.

Nah I can't think like that...this is what I'm all about.

FULL DISCLOSURE.

And if my intent is to share with you parts of the journey and sometimes to entertain and also to enlighten you as to just how freaking stressful life can get when you are on this particular roller coaster? Then what is the point of holding back a thing, including the fact that one might have stress-induced hemorrhoids one day? It can happen and it is something that I should not be ashamed to discuss.

From where I sit (rather uncomfortably)? There is no point if I start holding back. It would be doing anyone reading the absolute worst of dis-services, painting a portrait of a life that was not true, and that isn't how I want to roll.

Make sense? I hope so.

That's my personal choice. Everybody else's mileage? It can vary. It should vary. That's what makes this world such a goddamn wonderful place to live in.

OUT.

ADD & Delete...Tough Choices

Now, the doctor that Bennett saw this past Wednesday did not specifically DIAGNOSE, with absolute medical certainty, that he knew or could know for sure that Bennett has Attention Deficit Disorder, since there is no way to really TEST him. He was just concerned because Bennett can't really stay on any task for any length of time at all.

And in order to learn anything, he really needs to.

Logical.

SO...he said maybe because of the family history (that'd be Yours Truly) ADD could possibly be a causality of the hyperactivity and lack of ability to stay on target, but that Bennett's issues could very well be related to the Chicken Soup that is his multiple issues, discussed previously in the pages of Blogzilly many times before.

He suggested we try an ADD medication, to see if it might give Bennett some relief, and help settle him to a point where maybe he would stay focused enough to learn better.


His first dose of Ritalin, 5MG, was this morning, split between 8:00 AM and 11:30 AM.

It will also be his last dose of Ritalin.

My impression was that the opposite effect that occurs in adults was to occur in him, right? That this was to have a calming effect on him? He would be more stabilized, a bit more centered, more focused, etc.

Well...I'm certainly not seeing that. Not at all. I'm generally seeing a kid who has been shot out of a cannon.


Massive increase in aggression, irritation, excitability and manic behavior. He's constantly throwing things. He seems to be much hungrier, and less apt to drink water which usually he attacks (ironic because when I took Ritalin I got extreme dry mouth, though he could be mistaking hunger signals and thirst signals in this 'state').

He's very quick to get frustrated when going through his toy boxes, throwing things aside as if he is looking for something but just can't find that ONE thing that he wants, he's close but JUST can't figure out what that one thing is. He's not as engaging or social...he's just pissed off and angry.

I would not be the least bit surprised if his skin turned green and he grew twice his size.


He is making lots of ‘moaning’ style vocalizations more than any kind of other verbal sounds, and very few actual attempts at words. Can't sit still, moving from room to room. Scrinching his face a LOT, blinking his eyes as if they hurt or are irritated.

So much for going to the Easter Egg Hunt at his school this afternoon. He'd probably smash the place to pieces. What a great capper to a SHITTY week all the way around.

Jen and I are both sick with colds, and he has a runny nose, and there might be something going on with him feeling like shit too, so we are also dosing him with Tylenol. I have a pounding headache (GEE...THERE'S THE SHOCKER OF THE DAY) and if he has one too this could be contributing to the behavior.

I should also note he is grinding his teeth like a motherfugga, something he has not done in a LONG time. And it is INSANELY intense. As in you can hear it from the other room kind of intense.


Jesus...this was not at all how I expected your day to turn out, bubba. I feel like Victor-FUCKING-Frankenstein and like such a complete bumbling asshole to have put you through this, and watching you flip out like this makes me feel like Class-A Shit. Add another layer, one that tastes like ass, to my Guiltburger.

I know our intentions were good. I know that the dose was very low. But still...I can't wait for this to be out of your system so I can have you back.

I am so sorry, buddy.

OUT.

I Got Yer Piece of the Action Right Here, Bub...

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...oh wait, that's that OTHER Star thingie...and I always hate that shit. I hate it when people mix up Star Wars and Star Trek. Call it one of my Geek Pet Peeves.

Or worse? When people call Mr. Spock...'Dr. Spock'. *gasp*

I have no idea why, but that just gets me going.

Well I DO know why, I'm nugging futs, but that's beside the point. DOCTOR Spock is a baby doctor from like the Punic Wars or something who's books are mostly out-dated. DOCTOR McCoy is Chief Medical Officer on board the U.S.S. Enterprise on the 1960's TV show Star Trek, and later the films based on the aforementioned TV show.

MISTER Spock is the Vulcan First Officer on board that same starship.

Get it? Got it? Good. And oh yeah...I also hate it when people call it Star TRACK. It's Trek, dammit...TREKKKKKK!!!!


There are a handful of licenses that I call my 'Dream Dozen', even though it doesn't always equal twelve.

That's how I roll.

These are licenses I have always, ALWAYS, wanted to get my hands dirty on as a guy who has had a fairly cool career designing and manufacturing, and hopes to again, licensed toys and collectibles. Back in the day at Palisades Toys, an opportunity came up to work on one that was on this list, and it was Star Trek.

James Sawyer, whom I always want to re-write his name as 'James (Sawyer) Ford' and whom I have had the pleasure to get to know over the years, just started to become a guest blogger over at StarTrek.com, the official website for all things Trek-related.


That's not James. It's the late Gene Roddenberry. He's the guy, for those of you who do NOT know, who created Star Trek.

And for the record, he was WAY cooler than George Lucas. While the Empire that Lucas created is certainly more vast and powerful and is a merchandising powerhouse, Roddenberry's creation was truly visionary, layered with social commentary about sexism, racism, war, human rights, religion, politics and so on. Lucas might have created great popcorn fantasy, and I love Star Wars don't get me wrong just as I love Lucas, too. But Roddenberry created something truly special and unique.

And besides, the truth is you can't REALLY compare the two when it comes right down to it, though many people try and, in my opinion, fail every time. Star Wars and Star Trek are just...as different as Batman and The Amazing Spider-Man. Both 'superheroes' in a 'genre' sense. Both great. Both with alarmingly different styles and visions.

James is kicking off what we hope will be a long and successful relationship there at Star Trek.com with an article that features the Star Trek product that I got to actually sink my teeth into at Palisades, a special collectors edition set of Gene Roddenberry and everyone's favorite green-skinned babe-chasin' Captain James Tiberius Kirk.


That's a shot of just the Gene figure sitting in the Captain's Command Chair. What you never saw that product? Not surprising, it was never released. But you can read all the details about why, with a few quotes from Yours Truly, in James blog called The Unproduced Palisades Toys Captain Kirk and Gene Roddenberry Action Figure Set.

But beware Mommies...we Geeks have a sort of sixth sense...and can sense when ladies are around, so tread carefully. Have somebody ready to beam you out quickly if you get too scared :)

KIRK OUT.