“He should have access to his voice at all times,” she wrote. Out of context, it would be hard to know what to make of a statement like this, but I think most of us would be inclined to think it is correct, or good advice, or at least true as an aspiration. Unfortunately, in this case, it was more like a weapon. I should have expected it. After all, the internet seems to spawn a whole population of individuals
When we first got married and were looking for our first house, I told my husband I only wanted to live in a downtown area. I love the ability to walk to the train station, go to shops, walk to dinner, basically enjoy where I live. For our first and second homes, this was the case. But, after getting our son’s diagnosis (insert link to diagnosis story), we realized that he might not just grow into our home. Life is
My son is like a puzzle. One with no directions, no picture, and guess what, it’s missing a piece – or in his case 3 pieces. Sure, we know where the missing pieces are, or should I say aren’t, but it impacts other puzzle elements as well. There are days I look at my son, and I wonder, does he know he has an itch? Do you ever have an itch and think about it? I do, now, at least.
We left the house exactly as scheduled, which in itself was a miracle, arriving as requested 30 minutes prior for check-in at the hospital. Everything was going smoothly thanks to pre-check-in via the phone, and we were sitting in the radiology waiting room a full 10 minutes early. Our appointment was for 8:00 am, and I thought, man, we might be out of here by 9 o’clock. Before I get too deep into this story, let me tell you a
The world stood still for a moment as the freeways were silent, the skies empty of any planes, and the sidewalks were bare of any people. The uneasy calm mixed with fear in the air was a feeling I had known all too well. It was the feeling I had when we got our diagnosis. I was in a pure daze during that phone call. The world lost all sound, and it felt as if I was all alone, even