G had her first parent/teacher conference today, and it lined up perfectly with C's follow-up pelvic ultrasound, so Jimi took the phone conference in the car with G in the backseat while C and I went inside for her appointment. They were done with her so quickly, we were back to the car in time for the last part of the conversation. Basically, she's awesome. She's reading and writing at nearly a first grade level, which is awesome. She's ahead of most of her class in math, but she needs to keep practicing on her counting (that jump from 29 to 30 fouls her up every time). She's a little ray of sunshine, a joy to have in class, friendly and helpful to all of her peers. I heard the part about how they had to move her to a new table because she was too social, and how they expect they'll have to move her again eventually when she gets social with this table too, and I grinned because, yep, that's my girl.
They told us not to expect C's results for a few days. The technician took the pics, the radiologist "reads" them and sends results to our doc, then we should hear from our doc in a few days. I want to hold a goshdang Kaizen event to get these people in line - can't we remove a step or two here and multitask to improve turnaround? For gosh sakes. Anytime you're in an ultrasound of any sort, you desperately just want to know, "Does everything look normal?" She didn't halt the test and go get a doc for a second opinion or anything, so there's that, but when she was done, she did say that she needed to check with her doc and asked us to wait for just a moment. I felt a small pit of dread drop itself into the center of my stomach, but she came back within a few minutes and said we were all set, good to go. That doesn't answer any questions, though. So we wait. And keep sending out into the universe good vibes for no big deal.
My head is a mess, guys. I'm so sad when I scroll through my social media pages - pictures of new babies and family gatherings sandwiched between horrid tales from sexual assault victims and memes joking about sexual assault survivors posted by men I previously believed to be Good Men. I want to stay informed, but I've realized my desire to be informed is not so much keeping me abreast of current events so much as depressing the fuck out of me. I can scroll for hours in twitter and facebook and Instagram, but I'm not gaining any new knowledge or enlightenment from it - I'm just following the crowd into the hole of chaos and awfulness. I tried to step back last night; I drew myself a warm bath, threw in a bath bomb, turned on a YouTube meditation video to help with stress and anxiety, and tried to let it all go. When my bath was over, I didn't feel any better, I felt lost and still so sad. I asked Jimi if he would hold me; I just needed to lie in bed with his arms around me and feel safe. He did, and I cried and cried until I couldn't breathe through my nose anymore. I sobbed the big shaking sobs you cry when you're heartbroken, because I am heartbroken.
"I want to live in a world where everything is fair, where everyone is treated equally, where everyone has to follow the same rules." Why is that too much to ask?
I am aghast at the state of our nation today. I am appalled. But I've been doing a little learning, and I'm learning that I shouldn't be all that shocked. To paraphrase a post I saw somewhere by someone on some social media something:
The United States
was formed by
wealthy white supremacists
to promote their interests and agenda.
The system is working
exactly as it was designed.
So yeah. I'm having a hard time over here, but I'm taking steps to get better. A social media hiatus between now and election night is on the agenda. I'm even avoiding some of my favorite podcasts, because they're political and informative and the facts they give stress me the fuck out.
Self care, right? That should be the word of 2018. It's the only way most of us will survive it.