Oh, I see. Apparently other people do stuff on their vacations. I am the opposite. I go on vacation to avoid doing anything at all. I could, actually, sum up my entire trip in just a few sentences:
I ate chicken salad sandwiches and sipped rum and diet coke on a balcony over-looking the Gulf. I walked in the sand and picked up sea shells. I read novels that weren’t literature. I slept in. I floated in the ocean and occasionally did handstands. I soaked in the hot tub. I played Text Twirl on facebook, called to check on the baby, and bemoaned my BIL’s taste in television (seriously, I actually get some quality time with cable and all he wants to watch are science programs). I took lots of pictures, chatted with people I don’t really know, and bought a couple of pair of shoes. It was a good week.
I did have the chance to think, which is new. These days I feel like thinking is an endangered species. I decided I need to spend a little time taking care of myself. In that vein, I’ve dusted off the exercise equipment, scheduled an appointment with the eye doctor, and I’ve promised myself that I’ll get out of the house every once and a while.
I also came to a pretty big decision about Charlie and his therapy. We’ve decided to seek out some alternatives. In the back of my mind, I wanted Charlie to be sitting independently by his first birthday. The doc said he’d like to see it by his second, but I don’t want to wait any longer. He is getting incrementally stronger, and I’m seeing gains in cognition and vision, but I feel like he’s creeping along physically.
With this in mind, we’ve decided to attempt a new therapy program called ABR. ABR in an international program based on the theories of a man named Leonid Blyum. It’s the only program I’ve found where most people see real physical results. I first read about it over at http://www.terriblepalsy.com/ and have since joined the ABR yahoo group. We have begun the process of applying and hopefully we’ll be accepted and able to start in October.
As with anything new, ABR will not be covered by our insurance. Also, the initial evaluation takes place in Montreal. The outlay for just the first year is huge. Please don’t misunderstand–the money is there. It is our savings. It’s the money we saved the first five years of our marriage. It is our safety net. I know we can always make more money. I also know that we have been supported so much by our parents and we are lucky that we have savings at all. God really has provided for us, so that we can provide for Charlie.
The weight of this momentous decision has been pressing on me a bit. I feel a little quiet. I know it’s the right thing to do–I feel like I’m giving Charlie his best chance at a normal life. That doesn’t take away the hugeness of the decision. Just because something is right, doesn’t make it easy.
My parents have generously stepped up and offered to pay the deposit and my mother will be flying with us to Montreal. My grandfather gave Charlie an incredible gift for “his future,” and I can think of no better way to spend it. We are doing this thing and I am excited, and nervous, and scared as hell.
All in a day’s work, right?