What Do You Do for a Drunken Sailor?

You make them walk the plank.

No, I am not joking here. I spent an hour at the physical therapists office today learning how to train my brain to recognize that my ear is jacked.

I wish I was kidding.

Basically, these exercises consist of sobriety tests such as standing with one foot in front of the other with your eyes closed. Easy, right? I fell over almost immediately. In another one, I stare at a letter taped to the wall and turn my head side-to-side as fast as possible. Tell me THAT doesn't make you want to hurl.

The hope is that after six weeks of this "therapy", I will no longer be dizzy.

In the mean time, let's hope I don't get pulled over since we KNOW I'll fail that one.

Humpty Dumpty Slipped on a Car

Remember when I told you all about Deuce's little "slip on a hotwheels car" that ended with him in a full leg cast? Maybe you remember me mentioning that he's STILL LIMPING? Yeah, so I got a second opinion from CARY ORTHOPAEDICS a place I won't mention on here so I don't trash the reputation of their DR. ANDERSEN unnamed physician.

This DR.ANDERSEN unnamed physician came *this close* to getting a good ole' fashioned can of whoopass opened in his office last week. He all but patted me on the head and sent me on my way for being a CONCERNED parent and WORRYING that my son might have an injury to his GROWTH PLATE which can cause the leg to STOP GROWING. (I'm such a worrier.) This DR. ANDERSEN unnamed physician even had the nerve to go so far as to suggest that my three year old was FAKING IT.

I wish I was kidding here.

He said, "I bet if you watch him out of the corner of your eye, you'll see him run on it."

"REALLY, DR. ANDERSEN Mr. Unnamed Doctor?! Because when the child lays down in the middle of the playground CRYING because he can't run and jump with the other kids, it makes me think he MIGHT NOT BE FAKING IT," was my calm response.

But I'm no physician.

So yesterday, I loaded him up in the car and drove him to a pediatric orthopedist. (Right now is when you're saying, "Well, DUH, Amo. Why didn't you do that in the first damn place?!" I didn't because I trusted that a orthopedic clinic as large as CARY ORTHOPAEDICS the one in Cary, would the thorough.) WRONG.

The physician, that I will name because he was so damn awesome, Dr. Henderson, put my mind at ease by coming to recognize the thing I've been asking all along..."Maybe it's in the hip?"

He did x-rays on the foot and hip and found that the head of his femur has a flat spot on the top of it on that leg; which may or may not have anything to do with it. He also had them run blood work on him to check for any sort of diseases that could cause the limp. Then, he did the UNTHINKABLE...he took five minutes out of his busy day to sit down with a concerned mother and explain to her that he will do everything in his power to find out why her son is limping.

Did you hear that? I think the sky just fell.

Do I know what's wrong with my son? No. Is he still limping after carting his happy-ass over an hour away? Yes. Do I feel any better even though he's still limping and I have no clue why? Abso-freaking-lutely.

Someone who doesn't know my child is doing what they spent YEARS in school to learn. Someone who doesn't know my family cares enough to bring us peace.

But you know what? Most importantly, someone listened to me.

Whether the limp is something serious or it miraculously disappears on it's own, I can rest, knowing that it is in the hands of someone who cares.

Thank you, Dr. Henderson, for your kindness.

Deuce, momma's working to get you fixed.

But I'm still calling you 'peg leg'.

Oh, and those THREE HOURS I spent with you at the museum yesterday? That makes us even for all the bad-mommy moments I've had over the last three years.

Kindergarten Ugly

In July, Bonus started kindergarten. To put it nicely, it's been the biggest pain in my ass ever since. It's not the getting him to school, picking him up, packing the dreaded lunches every damn day or the report cards. None of that has pushed me into the liquor cabinet...yet.

It's the attitude.

My neighbor calls it, "Kindergarten Ugly" and describes it as that little bit of ugly that each child has in them that is MAGNIFIED BY TEN HUNDRED BAZILLION THOUSAND when they reach kindergarten.

At first I laughed. Now I'm crying. After all, we know that despite Bonus's best intentions, he has a propensity for violent retaliation.

But this is bad, friends. BBBB.AAAA.DDDD. It's the kind of bad that makes you want to tell everyone that he's really your step son and his father just has no control over him; or make up a disease to justify his actions.

Regardless, it's embarrassing as hell.

Especially when he's calling other kids "stupid", or saying, "I hate girls" to the cutest little blonde you've ever seen, or when the neighbor's kid comes up to where you're sitting with EVERY MOM IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD with scratches down the front of his stomach and is pointing toward your son...that's not embarrassing at all.

But when your precious baby boy gets in trouble for yelling, "STOP IT, DAMMIT" and you're relieved that he didn't yell, "F*CK", you might want to reconsider that Parenting 101 class they asked you to teach...

Apparently Earwigs Don't Cause Dizziness

We are on the verge of what has become the widely-anticipated grand finale of 'What the Hell is Wrong with Amo'.

We have ruled out a brain tumor, aneurysm and now earwigs.

Which is good news.

In other better-than-good-news-and-probably-close-to-FREAKING-AWESOME-NEWS, the ear doctor figured out my dizziness finally!

Normally, I'd cut to the chase and slam down the diagnosis for all of you...but it's my blog and I can play with the climax if I want.

(heh.)

So, the testing required no caffeine or alcohol for 48 hours prior. Okay, (believe it or not) I can handle the 'no alcohol'...for two days, but the NO COFFEE...oh heeeeelllll-to-the-no. It was Ugly. (With a capital U.)

The young, tall, doctor with short, black hair that looked like someone you'd really love to party with and was probably wearing a lab coat to hide the tattoos, was really freaking awesome. She didn't even tell me she was the DOCTOR until we had hit it off and were laughing about the earwig theory. (It sooo could have been earwigs, shut-up.)

She did hours worth of tests, one of which involved cold air blown in your ear and let me tell you, THAT, is not as pleasurable as one might imagine. But, apparently you can recreate the room spinning that is experienced by that test by dripping cold water in someone's ear who's laying down. (Dorkfish, you better sleep with ear plugs, that's all I'm saying.)

All of her medieval torture devices tests resulted in three findings; first, one of my pupils is more constricted than the other which has absolutely nothing to do with the dizziness, but makes me fun at parties in low light. Two, the ocean sound I'm hearing in my left ear has nothing to do with the dizziness but is like have a private party in your head involving coconut rum and cabana boys. Three, my right ear is apparently asleep at the wheel and is 25% slower at recognizing motion than my left and thus, the dizziness.

But the best part of the diagnosis, was explaining that all to my grandmother...

"Amo, it CAN'T be the hairs in your ears causing all the trouble. Your grandfather cuts his all the time and it's not affecting his balance."

*****

In other news, I'm going to open a booth at the state fair doing the water trick. Can you picture the rednecks lined up, daring each other to do it?

Then again, the puke bucket full of beer and corndogs might be a deterrent.

Fried Eggs, Anyone?

Today we were told that my MRI looked good. My brain is apparently in perfect, working order.

We all know better.

So that's the good news.

The bad news? Those DARE bastards were lying.

Next up is the VNG (a test where they simulate vertigo) and a hearing test. This should be entertaining at least...

Definitely on my Top Ten "This Must be Hell" List

How was the MRI, you ask?

Well, if you ever have to go have one, I suggest putting a stew pot over your head and have a friend beat it with a metal spoon.

Incidentally, if you are going to slam your head on the bottom of a cabinet in a restroom, you should do it before the MRI, so they can look for the brain bleed. (P.S. Those stars you saw? They weren't real, nor are they a good sign.) Also, admitting that you may have said number 13 of the list of bad words and apologizing for it, will only get you, "Do you kiss your children with that mouth" from a tech that isn't nearly as funny as he thinks he is.

Also, when the tech asks you if you're head is okay and you say, "Well you're the one looking inside it." They won't laugh.

When they offer you music. Just say no. Don't give in to their "we have satellite radio so you can hear what ever you want!" Inevitably, they won't have Led Zeppelin and will replace it with Golden Oldies. Should you have the balls to say, "I'm not sure which is worse, the banging or the music," they will give you Radio Head as a suitable replacement.

Radio Head is not music. It is yelling. When you aren't having someone pound on your head (that has a quickly growing knot), you are being yelled at.

And that isn't good for your aneurysm.

Lessons Learned this Week (You're welcome.)

Telling Bonus that if he doesn't learn to tie his shoes soon, he's going to be living in my basement until he's 35, probably wasn't a good confidence-instiller for a five year old.

Promising him that we would still feed him until we move off without telling him was what I like to think of as 'being a better parent'.

Screaming F*CK when Deuce slammed his cast on my bare toes may not have been one of my finest parenting moments.

But walking out of the room afterward was probably a wise choice.

This aneurysm must be good for my weight as my clothes are fitting a little more loosely.

However, the huge bowl of homemade peach crisp with vanilla ice cream probably isn't.

A three year old in a full leg cast is tragic.

Unless he isn't in pain and has learned to use it as a weapon to fend off the attack of an angry brother; then it's funny.