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Showing posts from 2016

Nine

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Back in 2007, it was a lot easier to get your hands on Baltimore Ravens tickets when you live out of state like I do. I had a good line on a late season match-up between the Pats and the Ravens for Monday Night Football on December 3rd. The only problem? Bennett was going to be induced on December 11, and there was always a possibility than my wife would go into labor before that.

Being 7 hours away by car in Baltimore were that to happen would have put me further into the doghouse than I usually found myself.

Turned out, never had to make that choice. After experiencing some labor pains in the middle of the night on November 9, we went up to the hospital and on November 10, early in the morning I can't recall the time, Bennett was born around 5 1/2 weeks premature.

Not sure if I ever wrote about this, probably did, but his problems really began there. He was deprived of oxygen, the thing is I don't know for how long, and the staff there obviously played full CYA. The sheet o…

Wednesday Night Fights

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The wind was cold, it helped take the sting away a little as Bennett hit me in the face a second time. We were wrestling with each other. Again. He trying to attack me in all the ways he knows how. I trying to manage each of his flailing limbs and his gnashing teeth as they sought out any of me that got too close to him.

Each time his teeth would find a target, the searing pain was a blessing in disguise in a way. It gave me a few seconds to move him closer to the car. The both of us had only just minutes before exited the restaurant where this dance of violence had begun and we had a long way left to go. Unfortunately the ferocity of this encounter resulted in a much longer process of getting where I needed him to be.

As if the car provided refuge, or safe haven. Not a chance. It provided only an arena for the sparring to continue, with less of a possibility of Bennett getting seriously hurt in a parking lot, and a smaller space in which there might be an opportunity to ease him ou…

Pooping my Pants...Then and Now

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Wow.

I really screwed this blog thing up huh? Though I have to say, surveying the digital landscape, there isn't as much blogging going on as there used to be. Many that are exist to serve up top ten lists or slideshows featuring tantalizingly tasty teaser photos of boobies that oddly enough aren't in the actual presentation.

Or…so…I hear? I don't look at all that shit.

Main reason I started having big gaps in my blogging, back in the day, was because my wife never liked me doing it. Wasn't comfortable with it. She wasn't happy with a lot of the stuff I was doing and at times I wonder if she truly knows who I am, or ever did.

The gaps in the blog now are due to not being sure if I care anymore. About journaling online, about sharing what it's like to be a father to a son with severe Autism and Intellectual Disability, about where my ship is headed.

This apathy has spilled over into other Social Media. I used to update Facebook with Photo Albums and I was …

Forgetting the Unforgettable

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I was going to title this writing something about the processing of a turning point. Assuming, of course, that what I am about to describe actually is such a thing, and not just another example from a long list of head-jammed-in-my-butthole moments that decorate the landscape of my existence over the past several months.

How does one begin to even talk about all that time spent away? If ever I was plagued by self-doubt, fear, uncertainty...that time has been defined by my silence here. I don't know how to dig out of this hole I find myself in...uh, ew... no pun intended...but as a person who likes to write, as a father, family man, human race affiliate...I need to. I'm so checked out of everything. From everyone.

There are many things that require explanation, backstory. You know, TMI. I'm good at that if nothing else.

The only reason I don't dive in right now is because I want to try for once to get to the point and be done. The rest, I hope, sorts itself out in my h…

And the Band Played On

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"I know we've been struggling with staying positive in the face of how difficult things have been getting with Bennett's aggression." I said to her. "I was out and thought, I don't know...it might be cheesy but maybe we could all use a reminder."

"Where'd you get 'em?", she asked as I started unwrapping from the newspaper.

"Dollar General."

As I lay them out in a row I asked if she could tell me which one was for each of us.

"Let's see...Laugh is for Carter. Believe is definitely for you. Cherish is for me."

"Congratulations."

"I'm just that good!"

She walked triumphantly back into the other room, as if she had just won the Pick 4, past the window covering I'd picked up for her car. One that you can put on your windshield that keeps you from having to scrape snow and ice and shit off in the morning.

She didn't thank me for that one either.

I felt a heaviness in my chest...tha…

You Say Dystonia, I Say Dyskinesia...

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Holy crap...this one got away from me. I started writing, it was ridiculously long. Even by my standards. I started a basic recap after we got back from Cleveland. It morphed into Mr. Lilly's Opus.

Eff it. Gutted the bitch. Maybe I'll strip mine kibbles and bits to use somewhere else. Or not.

Sometimes the voices in my head are too reasonable. Boring.

Bennett's visit to Cleveland Clinic went as I thought it would, with one or two exceptions.

The first was my overall impression of his new Neurologist. Dr. New Kid was pretty good, but was nowhere near the blown off my rocker experience I had with Dr. Lachhwani. But, he is "Bye-Bye in Dubei" for two years, so this is what it is. Gotta make it work with New Kid.

The second exception was that I was not expecting definitive. While I didn't get much of it, Dr. NK did think Bennett had some Dystonia in his foot. Definitively.

The doc had rubbed a finger up Bennett's right foot and showed me how one toe was p…