I went to bed last night as happy as poor little Charlie Bucket. A select few of you already know, but until further events unfolded this afternoon, per Jason's urging, I had planned on keeping my golden ticket a secret. Good advice really . . . you never know 'round what corner there might be an Arthur Slugworth lurking.
Yesterday afternoon I received a call directly from the chocolate factory. I was given an appointment date and time for testing and treatment of CCSVI. I didn't have the energy to run crazy thru my house in celebration - but I truly became overjoyed. I had a pen and paper nearby and very carefully wrote down all the information I had been given. Once information was confirmed, goodbyes said, and thank-yous repeated I hung up.
Then I struggled to find the phone to call Jason. Guess what? I had just hung it up and sat it on the table in front of me. Duh! Pull it together! Then I fumbled the phone and from behind tears fought to remember and locate the proper numbers to dial Jason. He answered as always, "This is Jason." Then I couldn't even find words. I sometimes have this problem and knowing it was me, thanks to caller ID, he waited for me to speak. During this pause in dialog I could hear he was somewhere with alot of people present - prolly not the best place to give him my news. I learned later that my news darn near made the 'ol boy cry. And why shouldn't he have cried? He was gonna get back the girl he'd fell in love with and married. (Tears of joy or sadness? The jury is still out on that one. Ha!)
I couldn't tell you how many times I had opened my own candy bars as a kid, just as Charlie had opened his. Finally! Finally! I'd got my golden ticket. I'd read of successful procedures for a while now just as Charlie watched Augustus, Veruca, Violet, and Mike claim theirs tickets. Biggest difference here is the blessed few getting treatment really do deserve it. Anyone suffering from MS deserves Liberation, and as a wise man once said, "that's a fact, Jack!"
I've been sooo happy for each of whom I've been calling 'The Liberated,' but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't jealous. Thall shalt not covet . . . that may be the hardest Commandment to keep. And speaking of keeping things - good news travels fast - even when it's secret. I only told my mom before Jason warned against spreading the news. He likened it to the old wives tale not to tell about a pregnancy before 3 mos, blah, blah, blah - whatever! Fine. In mom's defense I hadn't advised her to zip her lips and Grandma and Amelia and who knows who else knew mere moments later. And I may have let it slip to some dear, dear friends who just so happened to instant message just seconds after I'd settled from getting the news. So is this what jinxed it?
Maybe I had wanted a golden goose too! Had it been greed that got me? I had somewhat arrogantly told the woman calling that if insurance wouldn't cover it, not to cancel me. We can't exactly speak as Mr. Salt did to Willie Wonka claiming, "money is no object," but I knew in my heart of hearts that someway, somehow with help we weren't gonna let that stand in our way. You can't put a price on walking or sight or energy. At least those who have been without these things can't . . .
This morning started at 5. Haircuts, showers, boys dressed, breakfast and homework complete. By 6:45 I felt accomplished and exhausted. Granny and Papa back from camping came to get Abel to have his broken arm checked out. And I stayed to see Asa off on the bus. Just about to take a nap Asa calls from school needing his homework brought to him. Huh? An otherwiwse stellar morning - I'll never get everything right. Gimme a break! So I stagger in to the school (they know I'm not drunk, just disabled) and deliver the papers. Making it back to nestle between my Gooch and my Dell, was tough but worth it. Gooch is a great snuggler. And as for Dell, he was jam-packed with good news today. Hikes, cruises and fashion shows for the Liberated were in the works. You know I want in on the fashion show. But just before I could share my liberation plans of a roller derby team, BLAM!!! POW!! SMACK!!!
Imagine Batman fighting the Joker's hencemen . . . sadly, imagine me as the weakest, lowliest, most expendable, cripple, disabled hencemen. Huh! I'm just sayin' - what I'm about to say SUX the big one!!! To set the mood, I admit I had been Augustus Gloop thru all this. Chocolate of any kind had been soothing my nerves. Was I out of KitKats? Was there any of the boys' Easter candy left? For goodness sake, where are the chocolate stars?
My doc had been shut down! Nearly 24 hours of being scheduled for an appointment - and then nada! Those pesky Oompa Loompas! They must be behind this shut down too. DAMN!!! More tomorrow, promise!