The geneticist we saw today probably buys her clothes in the children's section of Old Navy. I'm not kidding. She barely looks a day over fourteen but she seemed to know her stuff and as with almost everyone we've seen at this point, I think she got a bit of a hoot out of us.
We laugh, we cry. We crack a lot of jokes.
Anyway, the neurologist sent Mr. Moon to her to have her check out a diagnosis he had in mind but she seems to think it may be something else so he's going to be genetically tested for both of those things AND she wants him to get an echocardiogram, not that he's had any cardiac symptoms at all but one of the syndromes she wants to test him for can cause aortic aneurysms and so...
Good Golly, Miss Molly. Of course as soon as she left the room, Mr. Moon and I were Dr. Googling on our phones like crazy and going, "No, no. This can't be it," but she's the doctor and so we shall see.
Jason went to get a CT scan today after he went to see a doctor about the headache he's had for over a week. I kept saying it was probably sinus but the doctor wanted to be on the safe side, I'm sure (they have insurance) and Lily called to tell me that despite what everyone thinks, Jason's brain is normal.
And they're going to be treating him for a sinus infection.
So. Apropos of nothing, my duck, Lily, never goes swimming any more. I believe she's forgotten she's a duck and has completely come to self-identify as a chicken. She feeds and naps with the chickens all day long and goes to bed with them too. Of course, she doesn't sit on a roost, but makes her bed in the corner in the hay.
Isn't that odd?
Speaking of birds (my segues are not very graceful today, are they?) I believe that little web-footed creature I helped rescue yesterday may be a juvenile Canadian Snow Goose. There sure are a lot of them in that area although how it could have gotten separated from his or her mother, I do not know. It was pretty large to still be mostly bedowned if you ask me. Of course, I know nothing about ducks except for the one we have and she's a mystery to me.
All right. I really don't have any more news. The next two days are going to be fairly boy-filled. They are even spending the night on Friday. I will have Gibson by himself for a long time tomorrow and that should be good. I love hearing what he has to say. Yesterday he asked Jessie and me both if we could do magic. I told him that I made his mother and his aunt and so yes, I can do magic.
He sadly said, "I can't make magic," and I thought that it must have been an incredibly complex thought process to come to that conclusion. Perhaps we shall discuss this tomorrow and I will tell him that he IS magic and that's good enough. Hank was his age when HE wanted to do magic and wanted a magic kit but I informed him that he had to be able to read so he could follow the instructions before he could get one.
So the child learned to read in the next week or two but that was Hank and as he says, his whole life since then has been one long, "Does not work up to expectations," and although I don't remember that being the case, it makes me laugh.
I've had a kid who taught himself to read at age three and a kid that spent years in special classes dealing with reading disabilities and guess what?
They both lead incredibly complex and interesting and successful lives as do their more "normal" siblings although none of my kids are normal and if you don't believe me, ask anyone who knows them and their parents aren't normal either and you probably aren't either.
Let's all just keep moving on, one step at a time, adapting and learning and persevering as we must, each in our own special way and hey! they can test your blood to find out almost anything but not everything and even if they know what you have, it doesn't mean they can do a damn thing about it.
But it's nice to know, I would imagine, to find out that you have a normal brain.
All love...Ms. Moon