N. got discharged, but is seeing the specialist today and his pediatrician who will be very aggressive in demanding more tests and answers. (BTW, yes, it might have been a TIA, but I called a mini-stroke simply to encompass all the possibilities, they are now looking at a hemiplegic stroke diagnosis as another possibility).
And God do I feel for his mom. Her boyfriend of eight months, a really nice mature guy, a guy in upper level management of the police force actually, picked this weekend to break up with her. She also mentioned to me various things he has done and said in the last few weeks that are frankly so awful, that I have to retract that nice and mature label...bastard, after she told me what had been happening I was so livid, I handed the phone to Mr.Cotta, who listened, turned pale, and promptly apologized on behalf of his ENTIRE gender.
No the boyfriend never hit her, but the things he said, the words he used, I can't even repeat on this blog, and you all know that I have a filthy mouth. Anyway, now I want to wrap her in a big hug made of cotton woolies and take care of her....and maybe slap the SOB in the face. THIS weekend, of all the weekends in the world? Sigh.....they say people show their true character in a crisis, I guess so.
This week, by the way, is moving and painting and shifting week. Preparing for the babies room. Not filling it with furniture mind you, but painting it. Very difficult, but really a good thing. I figure at 31 weeks, I can dare to paint, no? My organizer brought her crew and they are moving all the furniture and taking some stuff to storage and some other stuff to the dump, and a whole lot of stuff is getting packed to switch rooms. tomorrow painting begins.
I haven't picked the paint actually, terrible me can't decide what to paint the kids room, much less ours....so I have to go now and spin my finger at the paint store and hope my husband doesn't mind whatever I pick.
Then again, even if I picked a hideous color, he'd never call me names.
Did you ever suddenly realize that you were luckier than you thought? And some of your spouse's faults, however irritating, aren't really that bad? Where the hell are all the good men anyway? Did I find the last one on earth?