This cold is having it's wicked way with me and, like the hero of a romance novel, it just can't get enough. Apparently, my immune system is way sexy. Spent the day yesterday fighting the asthma. Now the adrenals are getting pissy.
But I'm not gonna blink.
Oh hell no.
Gonna have to be sicker than this to updose.
(Everyone else is over it already, by the way.)
Took the toddler to OT for an evaluation and am torn. On the one hand, yes, she has some deficits. On the other, I'm not sure they are so horrifically bad that we need to not be able to pay more medical bills.
For now, she'll have both PT and OT and we'll see what the official reports say. The toddler was falling all over the place at OT and I have this sinking feeling we will be going to PT forever. In fact, if the Rapture came, God would make us stay behind just so we could go to PT (assuming we were pure enough to be taken, which we probably aren't).
The OT also dogged the specialist*. So that's two people now that agree the specialist is a tool. I need to get moving to replace their sorry ass. I've kind of just been ignoring it since I don't think there's much of a diagnosis to be had, but if the specialist's tool-ishness crosses over into their quality of care, eh, who knows? Maybe something salient has been missed.
*In a very professional way. Dogged is maybe too strong a word.
Just when you think you have it all figured out
12 hours ago