I didn't have to work today... at least not at school. (I do, however, need to go in to print things for the upcoming week.) But it's been a busy day on the phone.
As some of you know, insurance was dropped for all the kids. With 8 days notice, we have had to scramble to secure new insurance so that there wasn't a lapse. In theory, we are covered. I'm just waiting and hoping not to see the words DENIED or PRE-EXISTING CONDITION when it comes to Lennon. Even though we are all on dad's insurance through work, I'm still working and trying to deal with the state to continue coverage for Lennon, especially since he's been determined to meet Social Security disability requirements.
The life lesson of the day is that parents of chronically ill children wear many hats. I think most moms feel like they've got too many jobs, but I truly wasn't prepared for the extra responsibilties that come with Lennon's diagnosis. I am a teacher, and I'm a mom... so some of this is familiar but:
I am not a nurse. I never imagined trying to manage 7 prescriptions in 13 doses each day.
I am not a dietician. I didn't think I'd spend hours each week trying to locate recipes that are both nutrient dense and calorie dense. (Almost everything you find on the internet is geared toward weight loss instead of weight gain.)
I am not a personal assistant. I used to be the administrative assistant to an executive director within our school district. Even his filing, correspondence, and scheduling needs were less demanding than those of my son.
I am not an occupational, physical, or speech therapist. Thank goodness I have support from Arrowhead West in this area, but I research toys, exercises, and therapies that might benefit my boy.
I am not a lobbyist. I keep finding myself called to advocate for patient and family rights, especially concerning insurance and safe access to alternative medicine.
With all these things that I am not, I suppose I have to accept that in fact, I am. So today, I sat here in my Wonder Woman shirt, given to me this Christmas by my fantastic sister-in-law, and hope that some of her super-powers will pass into me.
An ongoing tale about the lessons we've learned with our youngest son and his diagnosis with the CARS2 gene mutation...
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3 years, 2 months, 16 days (and then some)
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