When is the appropriate time to talk to your children about Thalidomide?

We are still at Vanderbilt. The plan is to organize a group procedure involving gastroenterology, ENT, and pulmonology to all scope and look while Charleigh Joe is sedated. I met all of her doctors and the millions of residents today. They all gathered and spoke as if they had written a paper and were reciting it. The word hemoptysis was mispronounced and I giggled. We have all been there. I’m still there with angina.

Charleigh Joe has really perked up a lot since yesterday. I am happy to report that she has had no further bleeding. Mama brought Wyatt and Cooper to see her and she almost cried when she saw Cooper. So did I but for other reasons. He is like a good looking, friendly tornado that you can’t run from and I am like a trailer park without restrictions.

Props to my mother, brother, and sister in law for all their help with the boys and home things. I am forever in their debt. I heard that Chad was doing hand stands on the back deck of our house. What a coincidence, I was doing them in the airport yesterday trying to get someone’s attention as telling the tale of a critically ill child wasn’t working. Assholes.

When the boys came with mama, we decided to go downstairs and eat in the cafeteria. I knew we had made a mistake as soon as we walked in and saw the guy with the thalidomide arms. As I looked around we had a barrage of different anomalies that at least one of my children would LOUDLY point out and thereby humiliating me AND the fingered person.    

I steered the children toward the back of the cafeteria where mostly workers were seated and practically engaged them in conversation about anything just to keep their eyes on me. I remember as a child having to sit in the car at Jerry’s IGA while mama went in for some item. I was probably 8 or so and my brother Chad was in the back seat.

I distinctly remember the panic and fear that fell over me when my brother shot his arm out of the window and yelled, “Look at her boobies He was pointing at a large, buxom, unrestrained woman walking past our car. I wanted to die. She had heard. The buxom, braless lady was standing right there about to pull him from the parked car as my mother walked upon the scene. It seems that I have blocked out what happened next. I don’t really want to know what happened.

Still, I am aware that things like that happen every day and now I try to prepare as much as possible to avoid situations as much as I can. This just isn’t a good place to try to explain that whole, “not everyone is the same” type stuff to the kids. They will eventually catch on when they start riding the school bus. They can learn just like we did.

Again I would like to thank everyone that has called, text, prayed, and even thought about us over the past few days. I have felt and been lifted up in bad times and I know it is your spirits lifting me up and helping me through this….Love everyone and I’ll keep you updated as things arise!