Employee Of The Year? Not So Much...

I really could have used a cape today.

My two meetings that were scheduled for this morning (the very important meetings that were going to prepare us for the IFSP meeting) were both cancelled.  One was cancelled as we were getting ready to leave the house and the other was cancelled while we sat in the waiting room.  What can you do when there is a death in the family and someone becomes sick?  A bigger person rolls with the punches.  With my 5-foot tall stature, I’ve never been accused of being a bigger person.

I proved today that my job is not the most important thing in my life by first, showing up late to work (because of the meetings that never were) and second, spending the better part of the day with my cell phone glued to my ear, calling schools, the insurance company, our family counselor, the special education teacher.  I spent more time in the closet that we reserve for cold calling and personal phone calls than I did at my desk.  Employee of the year, I am not.

Had I been wearing a cape, I may have actually had more success today.  As it turns out, all of my phone calls netted me the following information:

  • Our son no longer qualifies for out-patient treatment (or similarly funded treatments) because he no longer meets the criteria.
  • A special school that would be amazing for him is so far out of our price range that I nearly choked when I was told the tuition.
  • There were scholarships for this school available during the summer, but they are gone now.
  • The other school that we like doesn’t have any openings.  We are on the waiting list.
  • If the fireman had been born just two month’s earlier, he would be in public school now and there would be programs available to help him.

It was one let down after another.  Everyone is sympathetic, but sympathy gets you nowhere when your child is falling through the cracks.  If he were only older, if he were only sicker, if he were only normal…  The irony of it all.

Today a friend at work told me to just let go.  And so, of course, I cried.  Because I can’t let go.  I did let go and then I lost control of the situation and now I’m struggling to get that control back.  I get what she’s saying.  Keep on working towards the goal, but let my worries go.  I’ve given this advice a hundred times myself.  If only I knew how to follow it.

 
 

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