Normal is a Cycle on the Washing Machine

So, more from our adventure across the Lone Star state. It began around 4:45 A.M. on Monday. We headed out to Houston at that point. Kids were excited because of where we were going after the hospital. Mom and Dad felt as though we had been hit with a bus.

Part of that was because we had an awfully long weekend that ended with my husband working until after midnight on Sunday night. On Wednesday afternoon he declared that maybe this had been a bad idea. Hmmm, could it be? The other part is that I never enjoy going to a hospital. But this is different because it's a children's hospital.

I don't know if it's because I have sat in the halls of one children's hospital and wondered if I would leave with my child or because I have cried with people who didn't leave with their children or simply because I am a Mom. But I find Children's Hospitals to be about the scariest, creepiest places on Earth.

I will assume that most of you will find that strange. And in fact, I find it strange. Texas Children's Hospital is a premier children's hospital. If one of my children were really sick I would be on the phone with Texas Children's within the hour. They know what they are doing.

And the hallways are bright and colorful. There is beautiful art work and aquariums everywhere. Huge cow sculptures that have been decorated in different themes grace certain lobbys and foyers. There is even a Mc Donald's inside the hospital. Giant blocks spelling Texas Children's fill the lawn. And when I see this place my gut reaction is run. Run fast, run far.

I accept that this is the place to be if your child needs surgery or chemotherapy. If your child needs help combatting an illness, go there, immediately. And if your skin doesn't crawl the entire time you are there, then please contact me and tell me what to do.

I think my reaction is a complex thing, made up of many parts. We women like to think we are complex, you know. I think we are much less complex than we believe.

It has been my experience that God uses certain circumstances to remind me (us) of the amazing blessings in my (our) life. I am not nearly so arrogant to think He allows bad things to happen for this purpose, I simply believe sometimes He gives us a peek at those things to keep us in check. And it works. I am humbled when this happens. And that's part of the hospital experience. We have visited many different floors at Texas Children's and seen many different kiddos. None more difficult than the Neuropsychology floor. That floor is where kids with mental illness were also treated. I hurt for their parents and every other parent I see walking through that hospital. As humans we don't like to hurt and I would assume that's one reason I don't like the hospital.

Right now you all like me. Well, at least I would like to believe you do. You won't after I say this next reason. At least, you won't like me as much. I don't like me as much when I think it. But I still think it.

Some of ths kids at the hospital are there to get help. They will be treated. And they will be cured. My son, however, will not. And it makes me mad. Mad as hell, really. It doesn't matter how many times we visit, or how long we pray, or what equpiment we buy, or how many times a week we do therapy, or how smart he continues to prove he is, or how humbled we are, or how happy we are, or how hard we try. He will live with CP for the rest of his life. It isn't going away and it isn't getting better. And I wish it would.

Please don't get me wrong. We have it good. We do. And I have a son who is the biggest blessing a mother could possibly ask for and he is healthy. And, I DO know what a blessing that is. But right now, we're talking about my demons.

If that hospital could give him a magic pill and he would be "normal" would I give it to him? Yeah, in a heartbeat. But would he be the same kid? Nope. So in the end I am glad that I am not the one with that control. God makes those choices and He knows so much better than I what is right for D. He can make those hard desicions when I am not sure I could have anyway. So, I am thankful I am not in a position to give D the "magic pill". I wouldn't trade the person he is for anything, including "normal". Heck, the other three members of this family aren't normal, why should he be?

We finished at the hospital around 12:30 getting no new news. I told you they do practically nothing. But this time they did do a little something. They wrote two prescriptions, one for a new piece of equipment that D doesn't want (surprise, surprise!) and they wrote a referral to a new Dr. in Dallas. He doesn't work in a hospital.