(Because I am pathetic, and will make any and every possible reference to Barenaked Ladies)
It’s been one week since you looked at me, cocked your head to the side and said, “Your kid has MD.”
OK, not really how the song goes. But it is a frighteningly accurate representation of how the conversation actually began at the neurologist one week ago today. The day that started our after. For now, the worst of the after is over. I talked to his piano teacher, I emailed his classroom teachers and principal, we’ve told all the major players in our lives except my mom and dad (they’re vacationing on a beach in the Pacific Ocean–we’ll tell them when they return). In one week, it became easier to formulate and physically, audibly say the words. In one week, I only cried myself to sleep three times. In one week, I only went to the http://www.mda.org website twice and completely stayed away from every other medical source and support group. In one week, we received an incredible outpouring of love and support from the major players.
In one week, my son is exactly the same.