In fact- I think I’ll pay anyone who volunteers!
I think Damien is secretly writing a book and I think it’s titled “PUBESCENT PLANS TO PICK ON PARANOID PARENTS” …or something like that. I swear it never rains- it bloody pours! The night before last I was sitting in the lounge, it was close to 10pm, and Damien (who was supposed to be asleep) appeared next to the couch. He’s white as a sheet and looking very worried…
Damien: Mommy. Um. What does it mean if you cough up blood?
Me (NB: my heart has now stopped and I’m cold as ice but I maintain my calm ‘I’m not at all panicked’ façade): are you coughing up blood?
Damien: nods his head
Me: How much? What colour- pink or red? Was it blood and phlegm or just blood?
Damien: no It was blood and phlegm, but not a lot, and it was red.
Me: okay, lemme look it up, I’ll call the doctor in the morning. Go and have another cough fizzy (ACC200) and then go back to bed, and tell me if it happens again.
So I Google “coughing up blood” and I find this link which was very helpful indeed. I called Damien from the room to show him what I found- that after coughing for two weeks like he has, its entirely possible his throat is raw and irritated, and that it happening once does not mean he’s going to die in his sleep. He must keep an eye on it and tell me if it happens again and how much blood there is etc.
Then I look at him and ask: when last did you have a cigarette?
Damien (deep in thought and looking more than a little worried): mmmmmmmmmmmmm… can’t remember…
Me: okay, off to bed, and try and relax and get some sleep okay. I’m not going to call the doctor unless it happens again okay?
He nods his head and goes back to bed.
Then this morning we had another huge argument because I had the audacity to ask if he had finished getting dressed for school… “I HATE YOU!” was his reply- talk about an over-reaction! This little altercation actually started yesterday afternoon when he told me he had detention again today and when I asked him if he’d been smoking again since I could smell smoke on his clothes. I won’t go into too much detail about what all happened on our trip home. Then after this morning it escalated until I felt like pushing him out of the car. In the process of telling me what a selfish, inconsiderate, nagging, self-righteous, paranoid mother I am- he brought in the issue of changing schools next year and how he doesn’t want to change schools and its his right (huh?) to choose the school he attends and how I never believe anything he says and I don’t trust him and and and ad infinitum… I swear to you I did not even raise my voice and I didn’t say much because as soon as I open my mouth he starts shouting again- I can’t get a word in edgewise. It’s no wonder people think he gets no discipline from me… this morning- he actually walked out the house and was standing outside our neighbours flat shouting at me!
By the time I dropped him off at school I was exhausted- and by then his meds had kicked in and he was all smiles as he kissed me goodbye and said “love you” as he shut the car door.
Some days it’s a relief to know that in coming to work I won’t have to speak to him for 6 hours…
There Is Never An Excuse
One in three is not a statistic - one in three is a crying shame.