Maggie

I met with the psychologist at the public school this week.  We've arranged for an evaluation for special-ed services.  There will be some assessments.  Then the government will put together an Individualized Educational Plan that we can accept, adjust, or reject.  We hope to keep homeschooling, but we do need to find out how we can get help for things that we will not be able to provide for Maggie after a certain age.  I told the psychologist that what seem to be insurmountable hurdles to us are health insurance and help with her finding a job.  She responded that those are easy for them; they do that all the time, and it will work out.  So that gives me some hope that we can continue to do what's best for our daughter, and still get past those hurdles.

When I mentioned Maggie's teacher-aiding in the kindergarten classroom at our congregation's school, the psychologist mentioned the high school's early childhood training program and asked if that would be work Maggie would be interested in.  Yes, she'd be interested.  Yes, she'd be good at it.  But because she's immune depressed, she gets sick easily, and she takes a long time to get over it.  The psychologist said that a daycare or a school is probably a very poor choice for work then.  Hmm.

Maggie's been sick for two weeks now. 

Last winter's illness really got to me.  I found it to be more worrisome than her open-heart surgeries.  (Maybe because it dragged on so much longer?)  And it makes me suspicious of what might be coming whenever she starts another cold.

A little cough during Holy Week turned into a bigger cough.  She didn't sing at Easter.  She's been lazing around, resting.  She improved enough that we went ahead and did the oral surgery, which went fabulously.  But in the last day or two, she's taken a turn for the worse again. 

And then I wonder why I'm fretting over history lessons and Ivanhoe and long division, when sometimes it seems the goal is just to be able to sit up, try to eat a little, and keep breathing.  I get used to life when we're acting fairly like "normal people."  But then something comes along to remind me that simple stuff is a little trickier, and I ought not be taking the "regular life" for granted.