Halloween.  Okay.  I need a good wallow.  Right now.  Julia had a wonderful time going out from house to house saying almost appropriate things at times to strangers and neighbors.  I am still trying to protect her, interrupt her, stop her from more inappropriateness.  And she doesn’t really care.  It is me and not her.  My own need to be in the neuro typical club.  Most of the time when we are alone we are in our own normalized world.  We can add those grownups who accept her and one or two kids who are the same, but let her out in the general population . . . but it is my problem.  She is working it out for herself.  One of her aides today in school commented about how much better Julia is working.  And Julia is working it out -- tonight, I saw her ask a few kids their names or complement them on good costumes.  Sometimes she is still using a script of sorts.  Sometimes she talks much too loud or invades space, but she uses the skills that she has learned.  

Forgive me, but tonight I just want to know that she will have a place in this world when she grows up.  Living this day, present in the present is my lesson.

Last night, we watched an episode of Avatar - The last air bender during which Ta, an earth bender, tells her friends that her father has let her travel around the world.  She is going with her friends.  Julia ask me why Ta would want to travel around the world.  I told her that it would be a great adventure.  Julia loves the word adventure.  All our trips are adventures.  Then, she asked why her father let her go.  “Wouldn’t he miss her?”  I thought that her father would miss Ta but that sometimes kids grow up and want to travel alone or with friends.  Julia took my hand and said, “Mom, when I grow up I will go around the world with you.”  

If Cheshire had said such a thing when she was little, I would have smiled, maybe told David about it, or possibly told the story over lunch but it would not have been more the just sweet.  To hear Julia say such a thing is so much more.  First, she now talks about growing up.  There was a time when she would almost have a melt down if someone asked her what she was going to be when she grew up.  She is owning her own growth.  And second, she wants to go with me.  We may not be perfectly attached but we are family and she wants me with her.

Both great strides forward. 

But then . . . in school the other day, Julia’s teacher needed to correct her for something.  Maybe transition behavior.  Nothing awful and no big threat.  Julia turned to her teacher and asked that if she didn’t do as she was told would she get sent back to China.  I think it knocked the wind out of her teacher.  Yes, it is sad that Julia says this but I see it as positive as well.  Julia is aware of cause and effect.  She understands that her behavior can impact how others treat her.   She has a wider world.

Julia finished her time line tonight with one of her therapists.  She is excited about bringing it to school.  I have to go into school tomorrow for a meeting first thing in the morning.  Maybe we will bring it in then so she doesn’t have to handle it on the bus on Friday.  We helped her a lot but the core of it, the content of it is so much her.  I’ll post pictures in the photo blog.

And today, I said something to my LEND mentor about not completing my internship at DRW.  It is an interesting place, they do great work -- advocacy and lobbying.  I work for an incredible woman.  But I know that I don’t want to be involved in the systems level world.  I respect what they do -- and oh, how much i wanted to work there when I first moved to Madison -- but I don’t belong there.  I feel like I never do enough work there and I really don’t want to bring that work home.  Truthfully, I don’t have time to bring that work home.  I am barely reading anything that I had planned to this semester.  I am overloaded -- yes, I did it to myself -- and this is what must go.  I am going to feel awful withdrawing -- a bit like a failure -- gosh, I have to please everyone!  What a stupid burden.  Just too much of my own anxiety around doing “enough.”  

Ellen left me with something last time we spoke.  “Holding my part is enough.”  You know, this too is something about coming out of the grief mode.  I’ve lost my anchor, he who reflected back to me.  I need to do it for myself and at this point, I am still lousy at it.  I’ve always had a fierce need to please and I’ve taken my worth from how and who I pleased.  In some ways this made me a good partner, a good team member, but I need to be able to look in clear water and see my own reflection and decide for myself if that is pleasing.  

One more thing that will take time and patience.

From 30 October 2012

It is necessary to have a guide for the spiritual journey. Choose a master, for without one this journey is full of trials, fears, and dangers. With no escort, you would be lost on a road you have already taken. Do not travel alone on the path. ~ Rūmī

I am Phap Tu’s Facebook friend and he posted this quote today.  Someone responded with “How does one choose a master? I don’t have one.”  Both are relevant to my morning.  

It is Tuesday.  I’ve set aside Tuesdays to do what needs to be done and to walk with Amy and to have some day time for myself.  Reading is my latest ambition.  What needed to be done today was the windows!  Washing windows.  With all the work done on the house in the last 18 months, dust and dirt has found their way to the windows.  The kitchen is the worst -- dirt and general cooking grease is a fine combination.  This is a chore for a couple, and although David and I did not often take on this task, when we needed to we did it together.  I could use that reason to excuse myself from thorough window cleaning for the last two years and grief did play a part in all that uncleaned dirt but on the other hand, I just did not feel like it.  And truthfully, if I had not made a date today with my handyman, Ed, to do the work with me, I probably would have blown it off until that someday spring of next year.  But come Ed did and we worked the morning cleaning all parts of the upstairs windows and the outsides of the downstairs windows -- the inside of many of the downstairs windows is decorated for Halloween and I did not have the heart to take Julia’s decorations down.  Neither did I have the energy to take decorations down, clean windows and then put the decorations back up again.  So, there are still 8 insides of windows to clean next week.  

And so, it was another “one more thing.”  One more chore that I have found a way of doing that is different from the way it was done when David was alive.  There are days when I feel my distance from him to be so great that the fact of our 30 years together is hard to believe.  Then, other days when I can still almost wait for him to come home for supper.  Every so often, I still do feel myself waiting for some kind of real life to begin again.  That feeling is fading but it still creeps up on me from time to time.

Two email:  

The first from Julia’s teacher

Hi Suzanne,

The kids would love a Halloween treat, Thank you!

I was going to email you today. Julia was amazing on the bowling trip. At first she didn't want to bowl, even though Sherrie S and I were encouraging her.  She said it was too loud and scary. Then the girls in her group took over. They walked her out to the bowling lane. Got a ball for her and helped her put her fingers in the holes. They showed her how to roll it and applauded and high-fived her when she finished. They did this every time it was Julia's turn. Sherrie and I just sat back and watched. Julia got two strikes and two spares. About halfway through the trip she started exclaiming' "I love this game!"

I had one of the parents take some pictures, but they just don't do justice to what a special trip it was.

Have a great weekend!

B

And then one from me to Julia’s teacher:

Hi Beth,

I am not sure who I should be writing to so I'll start with you and if I am wrong, could you please forward this to whom it should be addressed.  

The timeline project has really taken off.  We started it last week by looking at old pictures.  Julia picked out many, many pictures, and with some help she wrote something about each picture.  I imagined that we could get the number of pictures down to a number that would fit on the paper provided but last night I gave up and got out a piece of poster board.  I know this is not the assignment -- I don't know if Julia will ever do an assignment as assigned.  She is so much not like anyone else.

I allowed her to go beyond the assignment for a few reasons: First, I explained notable and important life events to her and she understood it on her own terms.  Carving a pumpkin with Daddy was just as important as losing her baby teeth was just as important as adoption day.  I stopped myself from further explanation when I began to wonder if her internal definition of important was not absolutely correct.  Second, there are a lot of very sad notable events in Julia's life.  She did not chose to note the deaths of her grandparents but she wanted to note when she met them.  With the work that we've done in attachment/trauma therapy, Julia is really beginning to own her story.  This assignments seems to have come at an excellent time for her to claim herself.  At the same time, Julia has loaded the timeline with many happier events.  I felt I had to respect the balance that she found.  Finally, I thought the amount of work to do the timeline she wanted to do would persuade her to make it shorter; however, this has not been the case.  She has worked on it with me and with her therapists for days.  She has done it slowly and is trying very hard to be neat.

Please excuse this project that is much longer than intended.  Julia followed the spirit, if not the letter, of the guidelines.

All the best,

Suzanne

Julia and I worked on her time line for school this weekend.  We looked through our pictures of the last six years and she picked out pictures and I wrote what she said about them.  It was suggested that she have between 5 and 15 pictures; Julia picked almost 50 and all were “most important.”  We, at my insistence, reduced the picture number to 22 and the date entries to a few more.  We’ll see what fits on the paper that she brought home to do the project on.  It is because of all the hard events in Julia’s life that I felt I could not cut out the seemingly less important but happier events.  Some of what she wanted to include has been clearly influenced by the work that we’ve done with Marilyn and although sad, I am grateful that she is internalizing her story and making it her own.

This is what she has right now:

January, 2001.  I was born in China on January 16, 2001, in the year of the dragon.  I had a china mommy and daddy who did not take care of me.  I was named Xiao Zhi Kuang and I was called Bai Bai.  I lived in an orphanage with my friend, Maio Maio.  I played with her and took care of babies crying.  I had a hard life.  I missed my China mommy and daddy.

2005.  When I was four years old, I was in the Chinese playground and someone took a picture of me.  They sent pictures of me to my Mommy and Daddy.

August 28, 2006.  Mommy and Daddy and Cheshire came to pick me up.  We became a family.  My name became Julia ZhiKuang Buchko Schanker.  They called me Julia BaiBai.  I love my sister, Cheshire a lot.

October 2006.  For my first Halloween, I was a rose princess.

November 2006.   I started playing with clay. I started liking dinosaurs.

January 2007.  Cheshire made my first birthday cake at home.  I was six years old and I was growing.

January 2007.  I met Grandma and Grandpa in Florida.

April 2007.  Mommy, Daddy, and I sold our house in Indianapolis. We moved to Madison, Wisconsin, and I lost two of my baby teeth.  I love making clay dinosaurs.  

November 2007.  My whole family was together in Maryland for Thanksgiving.

May 2008.  Cheshire graduated from college, and I made a dinosaur.

July 2008.  Miao Maio and I hung out together.  I loved meeting Maio Maio again and I missed her so much.  

July 2008.  Bobsha, Mommy and I went to the beach in New Jersey.

October 2008.  Daddy and I carved pumpkins for Halloween.

March, 2009.  My grandpa had his 90th birthday.  We all went to Florida to celebrate.

March 2010.  My Dad got a new heart and the doctors tried to make him feel better.

May 2010.  My cousins, Heather and Joshua, had a baby named Noah.  I held him.

July 2010.  My Dad died because his new heart did not work right and we were really sad.  I hate this when he died.

August 2010.  I went to London and looked at a dinosaur.

April 2011.  I went to Disney World with Mommy and Cheshire.  I wore mouse ears and I met Lizzy.

May 2011.  I learned to hit a ball.

July 2011.  I went to my aunt Barbara’s farm in Virginia.

October 2011.  I was a dinosaur ballerina for Halloween.

March 2012.  I play my recorded in the spring concert.

June 2012.  We adopted a cat named Muta and I learned to ride my bike.

October 2012.  My cousin, Squeaker, and Lisa got married. 

I’ve started at least three entries this week that I have not finished.  And I had not intended to write this morning but rather drop Julia off at clinic and go home to clean, prepare for tonight’s supper, and shop -- that is, do the weekly errands that are getting neglected with my new busy schedule.  But while getting ready to leave the house and driving Julia to clinic, I was mentally making lists and got overwhelmed with the size of it.  More leaves need raking, emails need to be written and sent, I need to work on my conference scholarship application and think about the snacks I am going to send to school with Julia because we are the snack family next week. One of the emails is to my internship supervisor, reporting what I did this week because she was out of town and explaining to her that I cannot put in more time into this internship that I had signed up for.  The naked truth that I have put way more on my plate than I can possibly accomplish during my 24 hour days.  

Yesterday, Julia and I sat down and scrolled though our pictures on iPhoto to start her “time line” which is due at the end of next week.  I have not tried to avoid pictures of David or avoided talking about him to Julia.  In fact, I have been picking out, printing, framing, and now mounting dummy pictures on living room wall in part, because Amy took very sweet family pictures of the three of us last Christmas and I wanted to put them up.  Oh, and I am stumbling over my reasoning here.  I want us to be a ‘normal’ family is what comes to mind.  I want Julia to remember her Daddy and to have him as part of our lives.  But looking at my picture roll and framing family pictures and feeling the holidays come ‘round and feeling desperately busy (ok, just a bit of hyperbole) knocked the guts out of me this morning.  Also, yesterday at LEND a sibling panel spoke about their experiences growing up with a sib with challenges.  Karl, one of our first year family trainees, and I talked about our families in the larger context of family.  I had made notes but decided to just share Julia’s timeline which of course, mixes dinosaurs and China and death and birthday cakes.  An hour and a half of raw emotion which is still coursing through my veins.  

And so, instead of rushing home to madly vacuum dust bunnies and wash down the bathroom, I am in my favorite coffee shop with an egg on an english muffin and a skinny latte.  I will get a few of the writing chores done, make my shopping list and go to Cops, buy our pumpkins and try not to feel like I’ve cheated Julia out of a pumpkin patch, and breathe.  My dinner guests will not mind my dust bunnies and Julia will probably not complain that she did not pick out the pumpkins.

I am expecting way too much of my 24-hour days.  Why I cannot stretch time mystifies me.  And probably, thank god that I cannot do that!!  Wisdom in the universe, for sure.  And as another slow down for the beginning of this day, the computer server in the coffee shop is down and so I have no internet.  

Breathe in, breathe out.  Slow down.  Today, I know that if I breathe, I will have tears running down my cheeks.  It is that kind of day.  All reasons, no reasons at all.  Just what it is.

A few Julia things:

As I left the clinic, Julia asked “Are you going home?”  And I casually tell her how I will spend my time while she is at clinic.  I could pick her up and twirl her around but instead I tell her that I like when she asks what I do.  It is still rare, and still somewhat of a script -- someone asks you are you are and you ask them back -- but this morning sounded more like conversation and less like a script.  She is learning to be interested in what I am doing, and if she can be interested in what I am doing, she will learn to do it for other people.  Marilyn has said over and over that a child has to learn attachment and caregiving from her mother (or father) to has successful relationships outside the family.  My experience of Julia these days is that she is a better companion to me -- not like a neuro-typical child by any means, but so much better than she was.  Another step towards friends.

Working on the timeline and picking out pictures, I was please to see Julia picking many pictures and having something to say about them.  We cannot use everything that she picked out because she was given a piece of paper to use -- we could be making a poster -- but she is remembering.

About weeks ago, during morning meditation, I began to ask Julia to breath with me -- breathe in . . . out, in . . . out, sa . . . hum, sa . . . hum.  I started it because I was noticing that she was holding her breath often and the kid can hold her breath for a very long time.  It felt like she was tensing more than she had to and we’ve had a few days of very squirmy strong sitting.  “Quiet in body and mind,” I usually tell her but those words don’t mean everything the could to her.  So, the request to breath came more from my worry about her holding her breath and less from wanting to move to another meditation skill but it serves both.  

There are also two indications that Julia finds our morning meditation valuable, other than just doing what I ask.  She asks to do it on days when she does not have school and we have not managed to fit it into the beginning of our day.  And when she is running late in the morning, I have begun leaving her at the breakfast table and sitting to begin meditating.  She will finish her breakfast and come to join me.  Sometimes as quickly as she can.  Definitely this is so much better than nagging her until she finishes which I am apt to do, and for all my worry that she would just blow off the meditation, she has done it for 10 solid minutes anytime, I sit down before her.  She can also keep very still when she puts her mind to it.  Not all the time, but occasionally and without prompting, although when we finish she always points out how still she kept in order to get praised.  

Yesterday, in face all of the weekend, was that glorious kind of late fall weather when it is imperative to be outside for at least part of the day.  On both days, I spent hours raking fallen leaves and pruning back the garden beds.  I offered up apologies to the dear flowering plants that persevered this growing season amidst drought, weeds and neglect from the gardener.  I promised a better next year, to the extent that I can make such promises.  Two of my big leaf bearers hold tight to their yellow cloaks until after Thanksgiving and so my work in not nearly finished but for the moment and in the rain of the day, the lawn and garden beds look raked clean and full of next year’s possibilities.

Yesterday, I spent the afternoon in a furious cook.  Sweet potato chili (new recipe, not bad, but needs a bit more tweaking), sautéed bok choi, baked squash and oatmeal cookies.  Some for consumption last night but also for the frig and freezer.  My busy days do not permit substantial cooking during the week and so, I am back to my old cooking ways.  I had a measure of joy in the work and later a measure of physical exhaustion that propelled me to sleep at a very reasonable time.

Sleep, at times, still eludes me.  Some of that is because I dither after putting Julia to bed or, instead of writing or reading, I watch much too stimulating tv or snack to ward off dozing when I am trying to read or write.  I have resolved to work on sleep and to the extent that I am attentive to my cycle, I have success.  Seven hours is delightful, and I am dreaming on a regular basis.

When Julia and I do food shopping, I allow Julia to pick out cookies for her lunch and for our sometimes desserts after supper.  She favors original Oreos but last week, she found special edition football oreos and begged me to get them.  She also brought up football in a poem she wrote about fall as her favorite game to watch.  Now, this line of thinking is not from me, one-half of the old anti-sport parenting team.  In truth, I have nothing against football or sports in general.  I just don’t like them and so, never, ever watch sports or engage in sports talk if I can help it.  And considering that we don’t have our tv hooked up to anything but netflix and the DVD player, I don’t even know how I would find football to watch.  And so, the dilemna -- possibly finding an adult to watch a game/part of a game with her.  Then again, there are three boys at the bus stop -- two in her class -- who wear their football jerseys almost every day, but I never imagined that she even registered those outfits.  

Does Julia have a secret life that I am unaware of?

This morning as Julia was putting on her coat on her way to the bus, she ran back to the living room to grab something.  I was amazed to see her strut back into the kitchen with a purple scarf tied around her neck.  What a hoot!  I posted a picture of it on facebook with the message, “After 6 years of living with me, Julia (finally) decided that a scarf is a necessary accessory.”  And there it is, I wear scarves every chance I get -- only the worst heat of the summer finds my neck naked.  And purple -- my favorite color.  This is a found scarf and Julia is very pleased with that as well.  We were in JoAnn’s Fabric and Julia found a chiffon-y scarf on the floor.  We asked the people around that spot and offered to turn it into a lost and found, but there were no takers and the guy at customer service told us he would just throw it away.  My girl couldn’t bear that and so it came home with us.  It went through the wash and Lizzy wore it for a few days, but today, Julia became the fashion queen.

Sometimes when Julia does something she has never done before, I try to look back to see what triggered the utterance or event.  Most of the time, I can see some reasons -- like the fact that I wear scarves all the time -- but usually not the proximate cause.  How does that brain work?  What are the proximate causes for the growth that I can see?

18 October 2012

There are times when I see that I am so close to engineering my time like I have dreamed of doing -- doing what I like and as much as I like and doing no work that is not my bliss.  Ever.  And then I backslide, things come up and I am too busy to get everything done.  And I want to goof off and be lazy.  I had been adding activities and responsibilities to my plate with abandon.  Right now, this very instant, I don’t know if I can do everything.  And then, there are a bunch of those new things that I have no idea of how to do.  Trying hard not to think in terms of failure but the need to tweek  the schedule.

Change is not for wimps.  New adventures are so very scary.  There are times when I have to make myself get off the couch and go to Waisman or DRW and once again try to make sense of what I have signed up to do.  The “making myself” is an act of will to overcome inertia and fear.  I do it believing that sooner or later, I will understand and will be able to do the work, but there are no guarantees.

I am in free fall.  I am hoping for angels.

Writing time slips away.  Almost without notice until it is gone.  And I have a nagging feeling that I should be making writing time, like it is time to be writing hard.  I may have to get up at 4 a.m. like David used to do to get the time in.  But I need to sleep as well.

Specifics.

Weekend highlights:

*Julia and Chinatown.  Julia and I spent some of Sunday walking around NYC.  Julia hates walking like a proper mid-western child.  Cheshire was the same way at about the same age when we brought her back to NYC for family visits.  I have faith that Julia was adjust.  

So, Julia whined with every step.  We spent part of the afternoon at the Children's Museum of the Arts (CMA) (cmany.org) which has a clay bar, a painting room with several painting stations, and a few more rooms that we never got into, plus an exhibit, a ball room, and some other activity type spaces for younger kids.  The clay bar was the big attraction because the two adults advising could do more impressive things with clay than Julia could.  She was pretty mesmerized and I wished we could take one of those people home.  

Afterwards, we walked through part of the West Village, SoHo, Little Italy, and then on to Chinatown.  Okay, to be honest, we did walk a lot.  We stopped at some very cool toy shops in SoHo -- toys that are definitely not for kids but very cool to look at.  Clothes in the West Village that even Julia remarked on.  But when we got to Chinatown all complaints about walking ceased.  Quite soon after we got there, Julia said, “Mom, I love this place!”  And later, she said, “The Chinese people here see me and know that I am a Chinese girl.”

We ate Soup Dumplings, or Xiao Long Bao, known to the very cool as XLB, at Shanghai Asian Manor (21 Mott Street, New York NY 10013) which, according to one review serves the second best XLB in the city.  Of course, this makes me long to go back and try the “best.”  Julia ate pan fried noodles and Cheshire and Chris and I had some wild shrimp with pecans and a sweet sauce and some lovely, greasy eggplant.  When we finished, we happily rolled out of the restaurant.  Be it MSG or something else, we were high on delicious tastes and smells.

As we began walking to our subway, Julia heard the distinctive sound of Chinese drums -- one of the drum and cymbal bands that we hear on Chinese New Year celebrations.  Around the corner from our restaurant, another eating place was hosting a private party.  A wedding party was outside watching Chinese Lion Dancers perform.  A crowd gathered and watched and applauded.  I had never seen anything like it and felt privileged to have just ‘run’ into such a celebration.  In retrospect, it was a reminder of something that is not part of our lives, of Julia’s life.  It is a lost part of her heritage.  Of course, she was an orphan and there was no family to be a part of such celebrations.  I also have no idea whether weddings are celebrated this way in China.  

Instead of dancing lions and Chinese faces, my girl went to a wedding in a Catholic Church, in Jersey with all that a Jersey wedding implies, with a bit of Ukrainian customs thrown in, and with grownup cousins who doted on her.  Some of that is not so bad.

*Crying at the wedding.  So, I had a drink at the wedding.  Really a drink and a half.  And a real drink -- a cosmo.  I can’t even remember the last time I had a drink -- oh, yes, when Lisa and I went out for her birthday this summer.  But either that drink was very weak or . . . well, it was probably weak because there was no buzz.  So, the cosmo was not weak and I buzzed.  No difficulty talking or putting feet in front of each other but a bit too much of the emotional damn breaking.  There was a point sitting next to my niece that I could not put two words together without a sob.  I could be embarrassed.  I would have been once, but this was a hard weekend with too many emotional pits to fall into.  To fall into a few and to cry some was not such a bad thing.  I may not have been the best of company, but then,  I did not back down or shy away.  I think that the tears that are there will come out eventually or will rot some part of the soul.  Like mold.  Maybe it was like an airing of my soul.

*Walking my City.  Ya’ know, whenever I get to NYC, I know I am home.  It is such a difficult place to live, and thinking logically, I would be insane to consider moving back there, but it is home.  Even when I don’t know it, I know it.  I take in the sights and sound like food.  I believe that the ocean renews my soul, but New York City does the same thing.  Chicago isn’t bad, and frankly, I’ve never been to any other place that was even close.   

*Coming home.  I was so present during the weekend.  The immediacy of the City.  The familiarity of my old stuff in Cheshire’s apartment.  The reminders, flash of the past, holes in the company, joyful celebration of a family wedding where I am part of the oldest generation present, the noise of the lion dancers celebrating the Chinatown wedding.  And then taking the plane and landing in Wisconsin where Autumn is waning and the smell of rotting leaves and a cold snap envelope the senses.  I am left almost dizzy and disoriented.  A little bit sad, remnants of depression without real reason.  Lonely, yes.  I came back to a much quieter life than what I experienced on the weekend.  Not that anywhere would be as intense as the weekend on a every-day basis.  Feeling the need to curl up with someone who was my constant, my own rock.  Finding it challenging to be that constant for myself.

*Complaining about my Caseworker.  I’ve been trying to get information from my caseworker for Julia’s post-intensive funds for weeks.  He is impossible to get a hold of and when he communicates, it is always excuses as to why he was not in touch and then some hurrying to get done what he should have done months ago.  I send email and leave phone messages.  I try not to nag but when I’ve called and emailed every week for a month, how can any communication sound like anything but nagging?  I am using some of our funds for respite -- childcare in non-disability speak -- and my providers are paid through a multi-stage procedure.  It is not difficult but the systems demands that my caseworker take part.  He has not done this part this month -- and this was the first month that I used respite funds.  I have limped along without a few things that I asked since July with the promise that he would get to it, but I can’t let those who are taking care of Julia go without pay.  These young women are loyal, dependable, and dear to us.

And so, I had to call my caseworker’s supervisor.

I felt kinda’ lousy telling on him but then again, I felt like I had given him months of chances without success.  I left a message with the supervisor who called me back and I explained my challenges.  She is talking to him who will get back to me.  I don’t know how much of a good relationship I have with someone who I am always reminding to do what he has promised, but I still worry that I have ruined what little good will that is between us.  

*Dreams.  I saw Amy yesterday and she told me that she dreamed the David called her on the phone and told her to tell me that he loved me.  In the dream, she called out to me, as if I was in another room or upstairs, David’s message.  And that was the end of the dream.

I had a dream last night of getting married.  Not to David but to a tall man.  I was preparing a party in a store, like a flower shop, at least somewhere that was not a restaurant.  We -- friends who I cannot identify -- were decorating, putting tables up and cloths on, maybe stringing lights.  It was not a long dream or a complicated one but in it I was happy.  When I awoke I had a lingering moment in which I remembered the happy before settling into the now.  

If I can dream and remember happy . . . although it amazes me that I can go so long, in an everyday life without it.

The grief journey may be the most complicated journey I have ever been on.

Back but still circling.  Rested but soul tired.  Ready to dive but dithering on the edge.  Tuesday morning.  Olly’s birthday but not for three years now that she is dead.  Splashing back in last night with the first Quest integration group meeting and feeling more like a weird second date.  And lonely here in Madison and tangential in New York.  Keeping the head above water, swallowing sips of the tide.  Wanting to take a long view, rise above the fray to see the road from above but stuck in the muck and mire.  Not doing what was planned.  What I planned.  And now where I intended to be now.  Wasting time and not wanting to be in time.  Wanting the time out of time.  To be drunk and forget about time.  Substitute present for time.

Now for the delicious time of flight.  I used to journal by hand on planes, now I have to wait until we reach 10,000 feet to begin, not that it takes that long.  Julia is sitting with her iPad playing one of the games I put on two nights ago for this trip.  I put a few games on (no killing by any means and no bird throwing) when we first got the iPad and then took them off when school began and Julia wanted to play games on the sly. (I do take it as a sign of development that she tries to sneak something that is forbidden.  Ah, finding the positive in the strangest ways.  She whined for a bit and then stopped, becoming very content with the math games that I left on.  

However, for a weekend of travel, I decided to treat her.  I’ve also been looking for my version of appropriate games and found a decent puzzle game (up to 400 pieces although we are starting with 25 -- 25 on the screen is sufficiently challenging for me.  For Julia, not so much).  Right now, she is playing TanZen HD, a computer version of something she plays at home.   7 shapes to put into defined patterns.  She zipped through the first 10 or so, but now she is challenged which is good.  Her graphic eye is good but she needs to work at these and try different combinations of shapes.  She is patient and tries over and over.  She also does the kid-intuitive thing of finding out what the rules are as she plays.  I consider this the great generation divide.  When I put a new app on any of the electronics, I want to read all the rules and directions.  I also want to refer back to them when I run into problems.  Julia, like her contemporaries, just futzes around until it works for her.  

During the past few weeks, and getting more intense as time passes, Julia’s Concerta (ADHD med) seems to be losing potency.  It takes longer for it to kick in  in the morning and by 5 in the afternoon, it has worn off.  She has grown over the summer and there are signs of puberty.  We also have not seen her meds doc since before vacation which has not allowed for any possible adjustments.  This is too long to go without a visit.  I must have written that he cancelled two appointments along the way, each time resetting another month out.  Finally, I called and asked to change to another provider who has more time for us.  We were re-assigned and this time to a doc instead of a fellow.  I don’t know whether this is a long term assignment or just a stop gap measure.  In another corner of our world, consistency has come to be a challenge.  

School update, I went in on Monday, voiced my concerns and they were addressed.  Her teacher even sent some portable work for our trip which is great.  We will do something when I finish this and later today, we will be at Cheshire’s apartment alone for a few hours and we’ll do a bit more.  The regularity of work for Julia is important for mood and well-being.  She may balk at putting away the toys to sit down to math or spelling but school work regulates her more often than not.  

And talk about regulation.  Julia is a good traveler and has been for a long time now.  Picking up her heavy back pack, which she carries and which now has a little bit of our communal travel needs, I think about weighted vests and leg blankets.  Does a heavy backpack help regulate her?  And if not regulation, she is in training to be a great backpack traveler.

Walking through an airport and boarding a plane reminds me that next summer, we could travel.  Of course, financial ducks need to be in a line, but therapy ends on June 30.  We could board a plan on July 1.  Now where?  China is still out, and in fact, I think it would still be better to stay away from Asia for now.  My yearnings go two ways, no, three -- I’d like to go and do some work somewhere.  A Bolivian orphanage?  Or, I’d like to go visiting in Europe.  Italy beckons and we could stop over in England.  Or a family week at Findhorn and then go south and see British friends.  Or back to Paris for food and art and Monet’s garden.  In the back of my mind is a promised trip to Australia -- to see a dear friend and a cousin in-law who I’ve never met.  I think about linking that with an Asia trip but it is a big world out there and taking time on another continent, one that I’ve never thought much about aside from my two friends there, could be exciting.  And then, for the third yearning -- just a beach.  Sand and water and time being quiet.  The time on the Isle of Wright right after David died is still in my mind.  Not necessarily there, although that could be an option.  Maybe a long Jersey beach vacation?  Or somewhere not as intense as the Jersey beach is such beaches exist.  

Winter has not even begun yet and I don’t mean to be planning my life away.  Still, if luck favors the well prepared . . . 

I have my first Quest integration meeting next Monday evening.  I planned child care and congratulated myself on being organized.  Just before we got on the plane, my provider texted me that she is sick.  So I shot an email to the facilitator of my group with the warning that I might not make it and asking whether I could bring Julia.  Arg!!  I should have worked on a larger pool of respite providers before this!  That doesn’t solve my immediate problem but  no reason not to do it.  

As I wrote on the LEND blog, the work that we are doing in Quest somewhat mirrors some of the work in the Pockets in the Rocks workshop.  The reinforcement of the similar exercises and the different choices in exercises informs what I am learning.  Still, I am such a beginner.

_____________________

Later, in Brooklyn.

One long cab line, and one cab driver who got lost in Brooklyn and we are in Cheshire and Chris’ apartment.  It is such a home.  The difference between this place and the other apartments she has shared with one or multiple roommates is stark and telling.  Soft, comfortable, warm, decorated -- just enough of Cheshire to recognize her, some parts that I suspect are Chris, and then a few things that may be theirs together.  I am pulled up short by the old family things that Cheshire has.  Of course, I urged her to take anything that I was not using, and she had first dibs on anything and everything that I wanted to get rid of.  Still, to see my grandmother’s living room rub, my blue easy chair, my mother’s teapot, the table I bought for my Chicago apartment, and the pictures -- Jim’s, family photos, David’s movie posters.  Seeing it all makes me sad, makes me hopeful, makes me joyous.  I take them in until suddenly they look better and more useful here than they have for a long time.

And then there is the music.  Cheshire sorted through my records and took a bunch home, along with a turntable.  Chris has some from his father.  They have a tuner that is just a little more sophisticated than the one I was trying to push off on her.  As we listened to the Beatles and Billy Joel, I am struck by how much the sound is something that I remember.  It is by no means better than on CD or uploaded from iTunes, but there are no scratches and or complaining noises.  Just some quality that I have lost.  For a moment I regret letting my stereo and records go to strangers.  And when I suggest that Julia and I watch a movie as we wait for Cheshire to come home from her work day (Chris having to go to a school function and leaving us alone for a little while), Julia asks if we can play “this” record.  She has pulled out of crowded shelf the original cast recording of Carousel.  I ask, “really?”  “Yes, this one,” she insists.  Carousel is an old favorite of mine, no where near the sophistication and complication of a Sondheim, but  . . .  like a dear old beautiful friend.  “Just because its June, June, June . . . “  I know most every word and could tell stories about listening and of performing this show.  

Ok, am I going to be teary through this whole weekend?  In the city with some of my own stuff, enough to make this feel like home.  Listening to records, apartment neighbors and streets sounds with Julia drawing a card for the bride and groom and playing with the magnetic poetry on the frig.  

I don’t know.  Could I live here again?  I assumed I couldn’t.  I imagined that I had been spoiled by midwest living -- space, houses, quiet neighborhoods, easy commutes.  Am I projecting backwards?  

Breaking a week-long fast last night.  A good transition into the colder weather.  So odd that I seemed to have bridged the warm to cold weather during this past week.  Julia did notice that I was eating last night during supper.  This is the first time she's noticed.  Busy day today -- DRW, attachment therapy, clinic and a team meeting before we can be home for the night.  Then packing and getting ready for tomorrow's departure.  Relatively early drive to Milwaukee.

Unhappy letter to Julia's special ed teacher:  

Dear S,

I am sending back the math sheets that came home on Friday.  This is far beyond Julia’s ability at present and I don’t think it works to have her therapists and I coach her through each square.  She doesn’t have most of the concepts and coaching her through a new concept for a single square does not teach her anything.  She can do the math facts, although not perfectly.  She can also do the <, >, but again not perfectly.  To get her to do a sheet of mixed addition and subtraction problems, we worked most of the summer using different strategies, like color coding, to get her to recognize the difference between problems.  We spent the entire summer on addition and subtraction facts and greater and less than, even these concepts are not rock solid.  To give her a scattering of math concepts does not help her learn.   

When you sent the similar sheet last week, I thought you might have been trying to assess Julia’s skills, but I don’t think it is useful to do more.  It is simply frustrating for all of us.  Even simple word problems will take much more practice before she can do them independently.  Right now she can do: If I have 5 apples and you have 4, how many apples do we have.  But modify that a little and she is lost.  Example: I bought home a bag of apples.  I gave 5 to my family and my neighbor took 4 home.  How many apples were in the bag?  This took a long time and many pictures to explain, and she could not do another problem like this on her own right now.  

Can we get together on Monday right after school to go over your plan for Julia’s math curriculum this year?  I don’t know what you are doing with her individually and how often.  If Julia does some of her math work in a group, I would like to know what they are doing in class and what the plan is for learning concepts.  I want to support the plan in every way that I can, but at present I don’t have any idea what to do or the direction she is going.

I am having somewhat similar struggles with the writing assignments.  Giving Julia a page-long rubric for writing a poem is not helpful.  What is the goal for Julia in this exercise?  Is it learning about rhyming? Is it making sure the entire piece is about one topic?  Is it about adjectives and adverbs?  Is it about capital letters and periods?  Which of these is the focus for Julia this week?  If Julia was a typical learner, I would not be such a micro manager.  I would expect that she would pick up some part of the instructions each time she did a writing assignment and by the end of the year, she would understand most of them.  Julia is not like that at all.  We’ve all been working on the Wh- questions for reading comprehension for a long time now, and she still needs a lot of scaffolding to answer “why” and “when.” 

I am sorry if my tone is demanding but we are going into our sixth week of school and I don’t have a good idea of your plans for Julia this year.  Are the necessary assessments finished?  Where is she in terms of her IEP goals for this year and what can we do to have her meet those goals? 

All of this has been on my mind for a few weeks now.  I feel badly about laying it all out at one time and with a less than positive tone, but I am very concerned.  I hope that we can figure it all out on Monday.

All the best,

Suzanne 

________________________

I have no idea what concepts to teach or support.  Or frankly, how to teach the concepts.  I learned math quickly, Julia learns it very slowly.  I do not instinctively know what to do with her.  Today, I have the uncomfortable feeling that her teacher is trying to fit her into a low math group.  Julia’s math skills are probably far below the lowest of the math groups in her class.  If she is put into a group to work, she will find ways to manipulate the people involved to seem like she is getting the work.  This is not bad behavior.  She manipulates so she can survive and she is very good at it, but it will be the manipulation and not the math that she will concentrate on.  Is this the way that special ed kids get through school?  Very scary, indeed.  

What is scary is the degree to which I need to stay on top of Julia’s education.  This is in an excellent school with excellent teachers and a commitment to Julia, but I know that there have been general ed budget cuts that effect special ed and I know more cuts are coming.  Julia’s therapists and I put so much energy into supporting what she is learning in school, and still I need to worry and monitor and ask for correction.  This is exhausting.  I totally understand how parents can just give up and let a challenging kid skate from grade to grade learning nothing.  If the school is satisfied, I can so understand why parents just hope that their kid is learning and leave it to the experts.  

What underlies my fear is also my research into moving out of Wisconsin in a few years.  I was investigating the part of Maryland that Lisa lives in and I have been very disappointment with the schools.  I found a specialized school connected with the Kennedy Krieger Center, the John Hopkins equivalent to Waisman here, that takes in referrals from different counties in Maryland, including Hartford County where Lisa lives.  I thought this could be an answer for Julia but when I talked to someone from admissions at Kennedy Krieger, I was more than disappointed.  The process is long, daunting, and offers no guarantees.  I would have to enroll Julia in her local public school and ask for an IEP meeting.  A meeting would be convened after school started -- Julia might start school without any support in the classroom -- and the IEP team would consider implementing Julia’s Wisconsin IEP.  If they didn’t agree with it, they could ask for new evaluations, and then re-convene and come up with a plan.  There are weeks between each step of the process.  

Once there was a plan in place, Julia would need to fail.  The plan would be modified, and Julia would need to fail again.  Only then could I ask that she be placed outside of the neighborhood school and even then, the IEP team might want to place her in a different public school where the process of implementing her current IEP and/or modifying it would happen all over again.  If all else failed, they might recommend that she go to the Kennedy Krieger school, however, Kennedy Krieger has a very limited enrollment and she might be put on a waiting list there.

This scares me to death!  I would not have the therapist support that I have now.  I could not homeschool.  And unfortunately, I want a life outside of Julia’s education.  

This is a lousy way to begin a day.

At some point during every election season, I ponder just what it is I expect the government, local, state and federal, to do.  I've never had a complete answer.  In the wee hours of morning today, the answer came to me.

I expect that government to protect our hard won freedoms, and to provide us with a framework for a caring, compassionate community.  I expect that our elected officials and our bureaucrats will disagree often and debate vigorously.  I also expect that they will compromise and negotiate, because that is what democracy demands.  I expect that  they all know that no one has all the answers, that no one gets everything that they think they want and that when they sit as a government their allegiance to the country far outweighs their allegiance to their party.

Gosh, it is almost impossible for me to sit down to write!  I remind myself of what I imagine Julia’s brain to be like at times when she doesn’t have her ADHD meds in her.  I flit from subject to subject when I know that I have this writing thing, here and now.

I’ll start by numbering things and see where I get to.

First, next week’s wedding.  Julia and I will be heading out east next week for my last nephew’s wedding.  I have had anxious and ambivalent feelings about the travel (which is not like me at all) and the wedding itself (which I regarded as mighty strange).  I ordered a dress for Julia the other day, and went shopping for myself yesterday.  I bought home a lovely jacket to wear with pants and then had no interest in making sure I had the right pants and shoes.  Now, I have never been a clothes horse and have been ambivalent about many wardrobe choices but I had the momentary urge to return the jacket and just rummage in my closet -- which I know will not yield anything appropriate.  I was texting Cheshire and asking her whether she wanted to spend an extra day in Jersey with my sister and relatives when it dawned on me -- like a bucket of cold water over the head -- that wedding plans in general, and the wedding of my sister’s son, was just a little to close to the last nephew wedding that we didn’t make because of David’s re-hospitalization.  He died two days after that wedding.  Yes.  As soon as I realized where the uncomfortable feelings were coming from, I let out a giant sigh of relief.  Actually and metaphorically.  I will need to be kind to myself around this wedding and probably not spend an extra day in Jersey, but with Cheshire and Chris.  

Part of me doesn’t even want to admit to this “frailty.”  I want to be over the grief journey and let everyone know that I am really back to myself.  I also don’t want pity for the poor widow or have anyone wonder when the heck am I going to get over my self indulgent puddle of grief.  Is that left brained?  Certainly, it is ego wanting to appear to have mastered any challenge.  But truth is, that I am where I am.  I am not avoiding the wedding or asking for any special consideration, but it is a trigger and it takes me back two years to such dark times.  Actually, it also takes me back to the hopeful days, the days when I imagined that everything would work out well and that the life that I shared with David would go on and on.  Both those images at the same time.  I need to take care of myself.

Second, Julia’s newest bad behavior (I write that with a smile and a sigh):  I received an email this afternoon from one of Julia’s favorite people at school.  The writer is an aide who has been with Julia for two years and knows her well.

“I just wanted to tell you about a little incident in music class on Wednesday that is related to R.  On the way down to music, Julie was ahead of me in the line.  She then stopped in the hall and said what sounded like "R pushed me".  She would not repeat it when I sought to clarify what she said, so we proceeded to music.  As we were walking into class she stopped in front of R, who was already seated on the rug, turned around and very purposefully stuck her behind toward R's face, and farted.  I'm not sure if R knew what was going on, but I responded by saying "Julia, no, that's very rude".  As I steered her away, she hit me on the arm.  We exited the room immediately and went upstairs to the empty lunchroom to calm down and process.  After a minute, she apologized to me, and we practiced her apology to R several times, interspersed with her talking about doing various rude things to R like sticking out her tongue, etc., (nothing very awful).  She delivered an appropriate apology when we returned to class.”

When we were at Marilyn’s after school, I asked Julia about what happened and she pretty much told me the same story.  Her reason for the “behavior” was that R had refused to talk to her and rolled her eyes at Julia.  Whichever happened, it is clear that she felt rejected by R and became angry and looked for a way to vent her anger. 

There is a little back story here.  Julia and R were in the same K-1 classroom and the two of them attended the integrated play group the I began after school for kids on the spectrum.  R had a diagnosis (not sure of the specifics) and it did seem that she had some socializing issues.  Those issues were pretty slight compared to Julia, but the two of them got along and even had a play date or two.  R was a year behind Julia and when Julia left for third grade and Randall school, they fell out of touch.  Julia’s repeating fourth grade put them in a classroom together again.

I had heard from R’s mother that R’s challenges were minimal.  It was either a misdiagnosis in the first place or possibly just a bit of a delay in maturity which triggered concern.  Right now, R presents like a pretty typically developing child, or at least that’s what it looks like to me.  It might be that R is aware of the concern about her when she was in K-1 and is uncomfortable about it.  This is totally conjecture on my part, but I could understand R’s reasons for wanting to distance herself from Julia.  It might not even be conscious but what ever it is, Julia perceived R’s rejection and reacted to it with anger.

But there are a bunch of positives here that jump out at me.  Julia did not knock R down as she might have done when she was in Kindergarten.  Julia did not hit R as she might have done when she was in second grade.  Julia did not have a melt down when her aide tried to take her out of the classroom which might have happened as late as third grade.  And she was willing to apologize to both her aide for the hitting and to R for the farting without much persuasion.  She was also able to calm herself down, using deep breaths, when she was taken out of the classroom and brought to the lunch room.  That might not have happened last year at this time.  So, there is progress in her behavior.  

Julia also promised her aide, as well as Marilyn and I, that she would never do that again.  I believe her.  She will not show her butt and fart at anyone in anger, but who knows what she will come up with next week!?  Julia is still searching for appropriate ways to vent her anger.  She has it, anger, that is, and her anger can be intense.  The fact that she is controlling it to some degree, and it is coming out in this relatively benign bad behavior shows incredible growth.  

Another positive note is that the circumstances began with Julia wanting to talk to R.  Julia reaching out to another child to speak with them is still new behavior.  And Julia recognized R’s rejection, which is also pretty positive.  Many times, Julia has been completely oblivious to anyone’s reaction to her.  She had to get out of herself to realize what was going on.  To me, this is huge.  

And thank goodness, that Julia has people working with her at school who love and care for her.   This behavior could have been blown out of proportion very easily.  Once again, I am in awe of our good fortune.  

Now, I need to reply to the email about Julia’s behavior and here, I’ve just convinced myself that the “bad” behavior was almost completely positive.  Being Julia’s mom and turned me around and around again.

Third, working at Disability Right Wisconsin today, I was given an assignment, actually two assignments, that are really exciting.  I can’t wait to dig in, research and be of some use.  I will write more about this in my LEND 2 blog although I will not publish it until I am sure that it is appropriate to put the information out there.  Not that I imagine that someone is trolling the web for word on who is planning grass roots efforts on what issues, but it will not hurt to be cautious.  Still, exciting.  

Generally, I still feel as if I am making my way around the perimeter of  a dark circle searching for the way into the middle.  Or perhaps, like I was one of the blind men feeling some particular part of the elephant and offering my description of the part while missing the whole.  I am so self-conscious about my search.  What do I miss by second guessing everything and not just experiencing the moment?

Fourth, is anyone reading this?  Have I imbedded this blog so far within another that no one will ever find it?  Lots of questions about those questions.  Who am I writing for?  Am I concerned about readership?  Then again, if I was really concerned about readers, would I be as indulgent as I am?  Or do I just need patience to find out what it is I am writing about and for whom.  I’ve had so much time venting on and on about my grief.  Anyone who was reading for Julia news had to bear with memories and self-absorption.  I would not change any of it but there are winds of change.  At least, I think so.  

So, if anyone actually finds this blog, let me know.

Cats and dentists

Two rather unsettling things happened yesterday.

First, the cat peed on a almost new puzzle that Julia and I had been working on.  Our kitchen table is still being refurbished and so, we had set up the puzzle pieces (all 500) on a board about 30” square.  The board was on the floor in the dining room and when I was in the kitchen yesterday morning, I heard the cat scratching at the pieces.  I thought he was just playing with them.  Latkah used to pick up puzzle pieces are carry them around the house or to her food bowl.  Muta would not be chased away from the puzzle and so I went into the room to physically remove him.  And there, I saw that he had peed on the pile of pieces and was trying to cover it.  Just as if he was using a litter box.  

Ugh!  The puzzle was thrown away and Julia was very disappointed to hear about it when she got home.  She wanted to wash the pieces and we a piece of cardboard in water to find out why we couldn’t do a wash job.  Julia wanted to put the cat in time out or punish him, but ya know, there is no way to punish a cat.  And I remember a time when there was no way to really “punish” Julia.  Julia has changed; I don’t expect such a change from the cat.

I am trying to believe that this was a mistake.

Thing Two: I called to make a dental appointment for Julia.  She goes to a pediatric dentist who I am not fond of and after yesterday, I feel only more so.  

Julia was on medical assistance for two years.  I pay retail for my health insurance these days and it was a great help after David died that she was eligible for medicaid because of the autism waiver slot she had.  I changed her health plan to my own in July so that she would get an additional year of intensive therapy, and so as she sees her health care providers now, they are changing over to my private plan.  For our primary care provider and at the psychiatric clinic that prescribes Julia’s ADHD meds, I see absolutely no difference in the way we are treated because she was on Medicaid or as she is now on my private plan.

But at this dentist, as a patient on Medicaid, I could not make an appointment 6 months ahead of time like I can for myself at my dentist.  I had to call one month ahead of her 6-month check up time, and by that time, of course, all the good times and everything a month out was taken.  I asked about this once, and was told that I was lucky that they even took medicaid patients and that it would not be easy to find another dentist with a kid with special needs and all.  I choked back some bile the day I was told that because I needed to work within the system and didn’t really know if any other dentist would take Julia.  But even that treatment was pretty awful.  It was plain and simple discrimination.  How could we, as a community, allow our most vulnerable kids to be treated that way?

But my plate was full at that time and I let it pass.

So, I called to make an appointment yesterday and was told that I could make an appointment in November and my choice was Tuesday or Wednesday from 10 to 11 in the morning.  I am trying very hard not to take Julia out of school, especially in the middle of the day -- the break and transition make it hard on her teachers and hard on her therapists at the end of a day.  So, I asked about December, but got the same answer.  I asked if another month would be better but the answer was the same.   I explained Julia’s situation, difficult transitions, etc., but the answer was the same.

So, from what I gathered, a Medicaid patient was not allowed to make check up appointments like other patients who can make it 6 months ahead of time.  Medicaid patients can call 6 months after their check ups and make an appointment for a month or two ahead.  This means that Medicaid patients are seen less often than patients who pay out of pocket or are insured by private insurance.  The newest wrinkle of difference is that Medicaid patients can only be seen on inconvenient weekdays during the school day.  I was offered the option of making a Tuesday appointment and then put on a cancelation list for last minutes appointments but at that point I was not offered any other day or time.  

I was flabbergasted for awhile as I shifted days and months.  Maybe I was not understanding them.  Surely, the dentist had some time in January . . . and then it dawned on me what was going on.  I told the receptionist that Julia was now covered by my private insurance.  She asked for that to be verified, and then I was able to make an appointment after school on Wednesday, October 24th.  I was also offered a cancelation appointment today if I could possibly make it since Julia was due for a check up immediately.  

The difference in treatment hurts my soul!  How can we, as a community, allow our most vulnerable kids to be treated that way?  If my kid was a typical Medicaid patient, I would probably be working a low paying job.  Those jobs are notorious for being inflexible and probably there are no personal or sick days.  I’d have to take time off from work, take my kid out of school, go the the appointment, bring the child back to school, and go back to work.  What if I didn’t have a car and had to rely on public transportation?  And, according to that office, there is no other time available.

I could rant, but I am very sad.  I contemplate my responsibility here.  Do I just change dentists as quickly as I can?  Should I do more?