cabin pressure

"I haven’t really reached the anger stage" I said to my dad this morning.  But then I thought about it.  So not true.  A reader emailed me today.  Said she’s "been following the blog for years" and then, I expected to read a sympathetic story, something including best wishes, or hopes, or anything having to do with thoughts or prayers.  Instead, she proceeded to ask for dating advice, actually including, "Do you know any early 30s successful Jewish guys???"  You’re fucking kidding me right?  "You seem to know a million men in New York from your stories."  Right, ’cause I look so fetching in matchmaker garb. 

My point is twofold, here.  Probably not the smartest thing starting off your email saying how much you love the blog, and then obviously not reading it.  And the second point is, ordinarily, I wouldn’t react this way.  I wouldn’t care, I’d just assume she needed advice, was reaching out, going through her own dramas, hadn’t checked the blog, who cares.  But I so wanted to lash out at someone.  I didn’t go off on her because I knew, understood, that she couldn’t have read my latest posts, couldn’t know what’s going on.  I did email her back telling her I so wanted to rip her a new one… but I gave her the benefit of the doubt.  She apologized and admitted she hadn’t read since the advertising post. Who cares, the point is, I am pissed.      

I might never learn the "whys," won’t necessarily know what caused any of this.  I won’t know how any of this will affect him longterm.  It’s all a waiting game, the kind of game no one wants to play.  And I want to kick people in the head who say, "well, if I were you, I’d try to find out what caused this."  Wow, really?  Thanks.  ‘Cause I never would have thought to try to get to the bottom of anything.  So glad I can count on you for all the smart things you say.

I’m angry.  I know because I’m sometimes that person, saying those dumb things, out of nerves, maybe, out of an attempt to be helpful.  It doesn’t matter so much that it’s not.  And man, then I get the stories like, "Oh, I know someone who had a shunt, but he went into a coma.  But that won’t happen to Lucas."  WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS?  And please, I know you mean well, but I don’t want to read about how my son is like a trip to fucking Holland.  You know, there are tulips and windmills in Holland.  It’s a nice enough place, even with your heart set on Italy and all.  I’m angry.  Forgive me for going off.  I usually don’t.  But are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?  Parents have to take their child to the ER for emergency brain surgery, and you want to talk to me as if my son is already disabled?  Talk about putting the cart before the horse.  Jesus.  And I really am sorry for going off.  I know how awkward and hard it is to reach out to someone in pain; I know because I’m often the idiot saying the wrong thing.  None of us is perfect.

I was up all night with "I think I’m going to die right here" ‘rhea.  Cramping and sweats.  I am exhausted and strung out now.  I have a leaden knot buried in there, barreling and tightening.  Every bit of me is clenched.  I keep wringing my hands in the air, hoping to release some of it.  I’m afraid to leave the house for a walk, terrified I’ll miss something.  "Take care of yourself, so you can take care of him."  I know.  And I understand when the plane goes down, I’m to put the oxygen mask on myself before attending to others.  I get it.  I believe it.  But right now, I can’t do it.  I just can’t. 

I’m certainly not playing the whole "why me?" card.  I don’t think this is some kind of test from God.  I don’t think it works that way.  When it’s my shit, then yes.  When I find my husband is dicking around, lying to me, yeah, that’s my test.  How will I respond?  That’s what defines who I am.  But this isn’t happening to me.  It’s happening to Lucas.  And I feel it, but it’s not about me.  It’s not my test.  Maybe it’s for him, so one day I can tell him what he overcame, how strong he is.  Maybe it’s not a test… just the way life works.  There’s not always an answer for our whys.   

I’m scrutinizing everything just the same.  Lucas was released from the hospital (again) yesterday morning.  He was with us all day, at home.  He wasn’t smiling or giggling, really.  But give the kid a break; he’s not a circus act.  He doesn’t seem happy. He has small moments where he’ll smile, especially when I play with a cookie monster puppet, but overall he’s crying. Which is better than sleepy and out of it.  He’s not in immediate danger right now.  He’s tracking and crying and awake.  He’s just pissed off, like his mama.

I held him some earlier today.  He calmed down, and continued to jerk.  It’s the kind of jerk I get when I’m falling asleep.  That involuntary kind of out of nowhere jerk.  He does it when he’s awake.  The doctors have said it’s normal, that it can happen as a result of all the changes in his brain.  He’s got a change in cabin pressure, I think to myself.  Even though the pressure has gone down, not up, his brain is reacting.  AND IT SCARES THE SHIT OUT OF ME.  There.  I said it.  He’s jerking and twitching, not his face, just his arms and legs.  They aren’t rigid seizures.  He’s still tracking.  He can look up.  The soft spot on his head is still soft, or indented. But damn it’s small… and Phil and I have a hard time finding it.  He doesn’t seem to be in immediate danger.

And that’s good.  But it also leaves us in a state of panic, watching and waiting without answers.  Scared when he does fall asleep.  Is it because he’s cried himself to sleep, exhausted himself, or is it because the pressure in his head is making him tired?  I know in life there’s not always an answer to our why.  I want to be told he’ll be fine, that the twitching is totally normal and will go away.  I want to see him smile more.  I want him to be happy again.   Tomorrow, thank God, we have a doctor appointment with his neurosurgeon, where we’ll go over our list of questions, a bunch of which he won’t be able to answer with anything more than, "time will tell." So we’re videotaping the suspect movements, because without a doubt, kids try to make liars out of you when you’re actually in front of the doctor.  "I swear, he was twitching all day, but now that we’re here…"  Pants on fire parents.  So we’re bringing proof. And I just nearly finished off an entire Entenmann’s New York Style crumb cake in about two sittings.  Walk away from the cake.  Put the spoon down.  Yes, cake with a spoon.  Issues. 



  1. take it one day at a time.
    Im sending you tons of positive vibes. Things will get better, just hang in there.
    Things WILL get better.

  2. Dear Stephanie,

    I am so sorry that you are going through this – I can not imagine how tough it must be. Please know that you have been in my thoughts and I hope and pray that your little "bean" will be well. The waiting is always the worst part, and platitudes never seem to help. I hope your your coming days are easier then your past ones.

  3. I'm so sorry. I can't imagine the situation you're in and how you feel but I feel for you. Good luck tomorrow

  4. I have been checking in regularly for updates on your sweet little guy. This must be such a stressful time for you (I know the understatement of the world). You may look online for some message boards for parents of children with the same/similar condition. No one can say the right thing at this point in time, maybe someone who has walked in your shoes would be more comforting to you.

    Hugs to you and your entire family!

  5. Stephanie, Im sure it must get REALLY old, REALLY fast, always hearing about someone who knows someone, who knows someone. And I know, I've sent email as well, stating someone I've known with a very successful shunt. But if I could, I would tell you about my sister's struggles with her sweet baby boy and how she went through HELL with those very same sounding jerkiness and seizures happening to him. I'd tell you all about how she felt so much like you do, how helpless and overwhelmed and angry at how unfair it was, being dealt the shit end of the stick, not just once, but repeatedly. How very scary, for her, it was, to be given all sorts of diagnoses and huge scary definitions about what 'might' be wrong when really; a good neurologist will tell you how very surprising and how hard to track the brain of an infant can be, and how full of lovely surprises these babies are. How a GOOD neurologist will tell you that they just dont always know how to define things.

    But most importantly, I would tell you all about how my nephew outgrew them and how friggin amazing he is doing today, how bright and intelligent and free-thinking and independant. How he informed me just yesterday that now, with his fourth birthday approaching shortly, he is finally old enough to 'eat spicy'.

    They may sound like empty words, Stephanie, but I really do believe that you will tell Lucas about what he overcame, about the challenges he and his twin sister faced upon their early arrival and all the times he made your heart stop in its chest with worry and about how very, very proud you are of him. I believe it wholeheartedly, because with the love that you and Phil have for your beans, with your determination to do everything required for them and your ability to question yourself and push yourself for more with regards to your parenting; well, it is a foregone conclusion.

    Your beautiful boy will be just fine. He is in very good, loving and capable hands.

  6. There is no reason. There are no definitive answers as to why. That's life Klein and you know it. You wanna get mad, GET MAD. You wanna break something – grab some breakables and have at it.

    It's not fair. It's not right. He's innocent in all of this and SO ARE YOU. Nothing caused this to happen to him that you did, that Phil did, that Lucas did.

    Call Lea and have her bring Linus. I think he's the lifeline you're looking for in this chaos.

    I'm not going to tell you that things are gonna get better, because I don't know they are going to get better. I can tell you that I hope they do. I hope that this becomes a distant memory for you and Phil and that Lucas never remembers any of it.

    Breathe – even when the pressure and the stress and the fear are suffocating you – Breathe. You have to survive this for Lucas.

  7. Linus by Fedex!

    I just read your response to my other post.

    I can tell you that the furkid will help you hold onto your sanity.

    Tell Lea I said good luck with finals. With all that is going on, i'm sure she's checking plane schedules trying to figure out how to make the trip.

  8. All I can say is that I am touched by your blog and I am praying for your son. Please know that you have touched people's hearts with your honesty.

  9. my mother actually video-taped my little sister having seizures as an infant because the docs could't do much about it when it didn't happen in front of them. this was back in the 1980… beta/vhs or something… i remember my sister was on these monitors sleeping next to my parents bed for a long time. now she's a rock'n nurse in the e.r. taking care of others. go figure… lucas will probably end-up being a neurosurgeon…without the god complex ;)

  10. Hi,
    I've been reading and watching comments for the past few days and I have wanted to say something and just didn't know what was right. I've been sending you my thoughts and prayers regardless of *telling* you I'm sending them.

    About your anger and fear, I empathize with you as well. Not that you are focusing a ton on what others are saying to you because of spending time with Lucas, but it's understandable that things would grate on you. You seem like a truly caring person who is in a really sensitive place right now and it's totally understandable and ok to be angry and frustrated and scared. It's a valid point to not want to equate your son to the "trip to Holland" comment. When I read that comment, I felt like it was someone's sincere attempt to try to bring a different perspective to your pain, but I can understand how it rubs the wrong way.

    Hopefully, though, as you make it through the next few hours, then days, then weeks, the overwhelming love that is generated from your readers, friends and family will help you through this time. I think the fact that you can write out the pain and anger and sadness and get immediate response from people is awesome and is hopefully part of your therapy…

    Like Julie says above, things *will* get better. As much as the "time will tell" answers from the docs aren't the answers you want to hear, the time will get you away from the past week's shock to yours and Lucas's systems and it will bring you closer to the normalcy that you've come to know and love with your beans.

    Hugs and wishes that I could do *something* to help…

  11. Maybe you're right. Maybe people shouldn't try to reach out. I am trying to remember what it felt like when people tried to sympathize with me when I got sick. They would make it all about them. "I'm sorry" is a statement that relates back to them. It doesn't relate to me. Any time anyone said "I," I would tune out. I didn't really care how they felt about it. And it wasn't as though they could actually say anything that could make or break me, but they would still tread lightly. Oh, I found out I am going to lose my leg to cancer, but hey! didn't so-and-so just make me so mad when she didn't say how sorry she was I was sick! No, didn't happen. Or, the converse: I am going to have my leg amputated, but so-and-so said she was sorry, so that certainly makes it all better!

    So fuck 'em. But a word to the wise: That, you keep to yourself. Because you don't want to hurt people, no matter how much you are hurting. There's no guide to what TO do (and DAMN is that unfair), but there are definitly things NOT to do (and that FEELS unfair).

  12. I can't believe someone emailed you about dating in NYC right now- although, for the most part, people ARE stupid. Not to mention that Lucas's well-being is paramount right now, but you don't even live in NYC. It's hard enough to be a matchmaker when you're IN the NYC Metro area (as I sit on Jdate trying to find a suitable mate for my best friend)…

    Even more stupid is telling you that you should figure out how this happened to Lucas. That's like asking someone how they got lung cancer if they never smoked. To me, it's just dumb luck (or bad luck) as the case may be. I don't think it's a test or any bs like "God only gives us what we can handle" crap. It just happens. And you do the best you can to deal with it.

    Yes, you have to look for little signs that something is wrong, but really, you know if he isn't himself or is crying, it's just because he's also been poked, prodded, and watched…It may be nothing- just irritability do to all that's happened thusfar. Hey- I'm an optimist.

    Good luck. I'm sure you have tons of people pulling for him…and the whole family you've made.

  13. I never post….But, your blog is the only blog I have ever read….I have followed your blog since you gave birth to those 2 beautiful angels….I am a Pediatric Speech Pathologist, so when I read your recent posts about Lucas, my first feeling was anger! It is not fair that your poor baby has to go through all of this! My BEST friend in the whole world, has a 3.5 year old little boy who was just diagnosed with Leukemia….I feel angry about that too. Life sucks. I don't have any "wisdom" things to say (they would piss me off too), but I just wanted to offer my help, professionally (but off the record)….In my field, I have worked with babies who had strokes, seizure disorders, autism, and worse…..all I KNOW is that babies are SO resilient and their brains recover much quicker and more completely than adults do…and even more than young children do….I will be thinking if Lucas and my friends son and praying that they are ok….and that you are ok….Like Itold my friend, it may be a long road, but he will be ok….you must feel so overwhelemd. Please e-mail me if you need to.

  14. Stephanie, I'm so sorry this is happening. We are all pulling for your family and hope your sweet boy will be back to his old self very soon.

  15. Stephanie,
    I have been following your blog and I think you are doing a great job with both of your kids.
    I wanted to share a story about one of my neighbors. Her daughter was 7 months old when my Dad (a doc) noticed that her head looked a bit large. He sent her to the ER where they found more symptoms that had gone unnoticed by the mother. She was shunted and did fine. Today, she is a college graduate and is working in NY in publishing.
    It must be so trying for you and Phil to be in this position. I hope that you continue to have the strength. Please know that many of your fans are praying for all of you.

  16. My child was recently very ill and there are no words to describe the terror. It is unlike anything else- no matter how much you love your sibling or parents, their health is not the same as your child's. I realized a year later how much it affected everything and no consoling words could or would of helped. My least favorite was those who told me how lucky I was and how it could be so much worse. Yeah- right. Basically it just sucks.

  17. Stephanie,

    The videotaping is a wonderful idea!! I have used that with my school district before, but this idea of using it with the doctors is inspired! You are exactly right about the doctors not always being able to see what we see, and even the best of doctors do doubt us parents sometimes.

    Thank you for keeping us all posted on Lucas' progress. As always, you will all be in my thoughts and prayers.


  18. Just know that you are doing everything right. You caught this with the very first symptoms he had, and are hyper-aware of everything that goes on in his little body. You've got that motherly instinct on overdrive, which is what led you to the doctor in the first place. You're doing an amazing job, and your son is lucky to have a mom as in tune with him as you are.

  19. I never post….But, your blog is the only blog I have ever read….I have followed your blog since you gave birth to those 2 beautiful angels….I am a Pediatric Speech Pathologist, so when I read your recent posts about Lucas, my first feeling was anger! It is not fair that your poor baby has to go through all of this! My BEST friend in the whole world, has a 3.5 year old little boy who was just diagnosed with Leukemia….I feel angry about that too. Life sucks. I don't have any "wisdom" things to say (they would piss me off too), but I just wanted to offer my help, professionally (but off the record)….In my field, I have worked with babies who had strokes, seizure disorders, autism, and worse…..all I KNOW is that babies are SO resilient and their brains recover much quicker and more completely than adults do…and even more than young children do….I will be thinking if Lucas and my friends son and praying that they are ok….and that you are ok….Like Itold my friend, it may be a long road, but he will be ok….you must feel so overwhelemd. Please e-mail me if you need to.

  20. Be pissed, be angry, be emotional – BE! Do anything and everything that might help release that "cabin pressure"! Sometimes it feels good to release all of those pent up feelings, even if it's not what is "supposed to happen" or if it's not "right". Screw be strong, just BE!

    Good wishes and warm thoughts for Lucas and his sis Abigail too!

  21. Honestly… it just fucking sucks. These are the times to smash the plate that you never really liked anyway, beat the crap out of a pillow because it feels no pain, and go outside to your backyard and scream and curse as loud and obscenely as you want to.

    I've spent 2 years working in an industry built on bad news, and if there is one thing that I have learned from the patients and families of patients it's that there is NO reaction that is "not ok."

    So break it, scream, eat whatever you want, and know that you'll get through it… because you have to… even when you don't want to.

    FROM STEPHANIE: Awesome, and by the way, I totally almost ate an entire Entenmann's New York Style Crumb Cake yesterday. This might explain the 'rhea.

  22. seriously, not be mean, but if you don't want comments on events that are occuring in your life, don't publicize your life, and the lives of your family members, to the extent that you do.

    people are going to write what they are going to write. obviously someone is going to eventually upset you…

  23. Being a parent is hard. You try your best and hope like hell that it's enough. I was single Mom and remember mostly being tired. Tried not to let anything major fall through the cracks. And mostly it didn't. My girls have been injured physically and emotionally and it always hurts me more than them. And it dosen't end. Ever. My 25 year old is just going through a break up. She's in Miami and I'm so proud of how she's handling this but mostly I just want to hug her and make the hurt go away. We can't fully realize it until we become parents. It's not a glamorous job and certainly not for the squeamish. But would we decide not to be parents to avoid the hardest parts? Not in a million years. All I can offer you is this: it's a hard time for you now. Heinous. But it will not be this awful forever. Hug your babies, kiss your husband. And keep those feet firmly planted, facing forward.

  24. My sister is epileptic and when her son was born he would often have the same kind of twitches you have said Lucas is having. Of course, we were all concerned that he was having seizures. He's now 6 years old and has never had a visible seizure or any neuological abnormalities. Obviously this amounts to nothing more than my subjective experience, but at least it has a happy ending…

  25. you have EVERY right to be mad, and pissed, and every other emotion you've felt. please don't feel guilty about it. guilt is the last thing you need and should have right now.

    sending warm thoughts, prayers and good wishes your way, and if my dog was sitting next to me, he'd send a lick and a doggie hug.

    I hope that this gets resolved soon and Lucas is smiling, tracking and having lots of fun twin time with Abigail, as well as great times with his mommy and daddy who love him so much.

  26. You have to get through the present, which is unbearably difficult. Lose it. If anything, so you can have that second of clarity that comes in the aftermath of losing control of your emotions. Know that many of us are praying hard for your Lucas and your family. I know when I am faced with life-altering challenges, I just am in the moment. Whether it's screaming, crying, eating, whatever it is that temporarily allows you to deal with the pain and scariness of this all, then allow yourself to do it. And know that for every dumb comment you may receive from insensitive readers, I think there are five great ones. We are hear for you, blow off steam at us if you want. I would do the same.

  27. Right on. I thought that the comment on the previous post about keeping an organic kitchen was insensitive as hell (and I use primarily use environmentally safe products at home). As if you need another thing to add to the guilt that you have–the guilt that intellectually you know shouldn't be there, but is there because your son is in pain. I have a hard time being around babies and dogs when they are in pain.

  28. Don't back away from the spoon – instead use it to scoop some vanilla ice cream on top of the cake! If it makes you feel better, then to it. I can't imagine how hard this is on you and your family, especially the little man. You are all in my thoughts and prayers.

  29. This comment from Stephaney makes me shudder: "Tell Lea I said good luck with finals."

    Did she not just read your post where you say how angry you are at the readers who post inane things?

    Sorry, Stephaney, but I'm sure the last thing on Stephanie's mind right now is that she has to wish Lea good luck on finals.

  30. I sincerely hope that your baby overcomes this as soon as possible. I know days can be long, waiting is hell, and life seems surreal when you have a health scare, wether it's you or a family member. It is very important to try to srip the surreal aspect of it and get in touch with the things that are still going well, as they are supposed to be, like taking a little walk with Abigail, opening the windows and breathing in, reading some of your past posts and realize that your life is still there, something that gives you a break from the constant agony and the repetitive questions and thoughts, at least for 30 minutes, you'll feel you regain strength. This week I had a health scare too, it's not gone, but friday I was alone in my house, it was raining so hard, and I just kept staring at the part of my body that seemed so menacing. Those hours were a living hell, waiting for monday to have result tests. On saturday my boyfriend and I went to the park, almost all day, watching people, watching trees, drowsing away, making plans, all that lifted this heavy weight and I am a little stronger, whatever it is, so reach out to the simplest of things. Not medication or shit like that, just to aspects of life that make you believe that it will be ok.

  31. My mother raised six kids on her own. In addition, my older brother was in and out of the hospital due to numerous hip surgeries. Needless to say, my sister and I spent a lot of time at the children's hospital. I can tell you, and you've already learned, people don't always know the right things to say. Of course most people just want to help and really just wish you well.
    My mother was usually a rock, but there were times I thought she was going to break. She always got us through it. I think Lucas is only going to remember how sweet you were when he needed you most. Just feeling you are near is what will get him through this.
    My brother is a great guy and I really attribute it to having a strong mother who never took no for an answer or settled for second best. He experienced things early in life, things that I probably couldn't handle today. He's one of the wisest people I know.

  32. Circle the wagons, girl.
    You know the positive people in your life and those are the only people you need right now. Don't waste your precious time on anyone else. Even the well-meaning types with the best intentions can suck away your energy. Ignore their emails and phone calls and catch up with them in the future when you have the strength to deal with them.
    No one will hold it against you if you are hard to reach right now.

    And if writing makes you feel better, then write. But if the blog is at all stressful for you, take a break. Your readers will understand your absence.
    Sending our most positive thoughts from my family to yours. Lucas will giggle again soon, you know he will.

    And p.s. for stress snacking I highly recommend mini milano cookies…

  33. I love how honest and real you are. Be angry, hit things, feel! It's totally understandable and natural. I can't relate to having children, but I know I'd probably go through every emotion possible in your situation.
    I wish you and your family the best!

  34. I hate to leave you another, my thoughts are with you, comment. But they are. I am a mom too. I haven't ever been through what you have, but as a mom I have imagined the worse. I read your posts during NICU and now and they make me cry for the pain you and you son, and daughter and husband are in. Physical and mental. Why is the only question I can think of and for that, there is No good answer. I wish I could somehow say something to make it more bearable. Your poor bean. I will be thinking of you all.

  35. May faith and strength be with you…

    To "Just a thought" You have to be one of the stupidest mother fuckers that has ever exisited! Why don't you, and the person who wrote about Holland — both F off!!

  36. Oh, you are one smart cookie – you've already gotten to the why me/why him stage and resolved it righteously. That one paragraph takes some people days into years to understand – sometimes there is no why or wherefore, life just is. During one giant crisis with one of our children I was sunk into the 'God is punishing me/I'm a bad mother/I am guilty' stage and my husband called me up short – he said, you're putting yourself before this child, you are not more important that he is…what's happening is between him and the Lord, step back.

    Writing it out…has to help, does it? I know reading it helps all of us reader friends out here – we are waiting with baited breath for any news about baby boy.

    Love to Austin and the Kleins….

  37. (((BIG HUG)))

    The cake thing-been there done that. If it works for you and helps sidetrack some stress, then do that. There are plenty of days for diets. Not today.

  38. Stephanie: One thing that I would find hard is when people "suggest" what you should be looking into as far as Lucas' condition. You were an amazing college student at a top school, who went on to research exhaustively for your writing, photography, advertising career, book, etc. This is your baby. Obviously, you are looking into every area that should be looked at and then some! Those comments are just a distraction. You are giving this 1000 percent and doing everything possible. Nothing would make me madder than comments to the contrary.

  39. Stephanie:

    Best of luck tomorrow. You and your family are in my thoughts and prayers.


  40. ((((HUGS))))

    I don't know you from Eve, but I thought you needed an internet hug.

    Thank you for keeping us posted, and my family is thinking of your family.


  41. As infuriating as it sounds, you must remember that THINGS COULD ALWAYS BE WORSE. If you have trouble imagining how, just drop by a homeless shelter. Or an oncology ward. Or a funeral home.

  42. I am so sorry that something like this has happened to Lucas. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family.

    Please don't listen to other people's negativity. My cousin developed hydrocephaly(sp?) as a baby and also had a shunt put in. From early on he worked with occupational and speech therapists. Today he is a rambunctious, audacious, straight-A athlete and president of his class in high school.

  43. You already know this, but you have every right to be pissed. What a terrible feeling, to be living your life and then suddenly the entire floor is yanked out from under you and you're freefalling, unable to get your feet under you, unable to grasp at anything. It's no wonder you're in shock and tied up in knots; your entire life has been turned upside down.

    I've never had a baby, I've never had a sick baby, but I understand that feeling.

    Your reaction last night (from what I can read into it, not being personally involved with you at all) sounds close to a panic attack. Just a gentle suggestion: It might really do you good to talk with your doctor about some antianxiety meds for now. Speaking from personal experience, they will likely clear your head enough to help you feel at least a tiny bit more stable, as stable as possible right now anyway.

    I so wish there were more I could say. You're all in my fervent prayers, and I really really hope you get some answers tomorrow from the neurosurgeon.

    For the inevitably hypersensitive people who will be upset by your anger: Please do everyone a favor and deal with it elsewhere.

  44. Stephanie,

    I know there are not words that I can say that will even slightly make you feel better. All your anger, sadness, sacredness and all of your emotions in general are justified, simply because you're his mother. My thoughts are, and have been, with you and your family.

  45. Mmmm, crumb cake. But a spoon? That would ruin it for me, unless the spoon is a vehicle by which to simultaneously scoop cake AND french vanilla ice cream that I might feed my pain. :)

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