Saturday, July 18, 2009

Driving Harold Home.

Thursday evening, I had a board meeting. For the time being, let's omit the content of the actual meeting.

I lingered after, visiting with some folks. As I loaded the van, our Executive Director inquired whether I could drive a "consumer" home; he lives in PB a whopping 6 blocks from me and while she could, it was completely out of her way and it was already 9:30 p.m. "Of course...just warn him Lucy is going to cry the whole way home."

So Harold (who is, I would guess, about 50-ish) and I had a pleasant (LLGA-wah-punctuated) conversation about his 21-years of work at SeaWorld and the US Navy (as his dad was a Navy doctor) and that he was going to try to go see Wicked (which I didn't even know was playing in San Diego).

About halfway home, Harold told me the worst part of having a developmental disability is not having your services subject to the whims of legislators, insurance companies, and family members. He said the worst is people calling one a "retard" or "retarded" -- and the other worst is people making comments about his physical appearance (he has a condition that causes tremendous swelling of his legs). He told me that he wants to tell these people, "I take all of my medicine every day...it's not fun to take 10 pills." He told me that he wants to tell these people to find nicer words. He told me that he wonders what happens if these people have a child of their own someday that is "like me".

When we pulled up at Harold's apartment building -- a very nice location, kudos to Harold's parents -- he asked if I could drive him home again after other meetings. "If I'm there, absolutely." I can buy you dinner for your trouble. "That's completely unnecessary." But double-kudos to Harold's parents for imparting some social niceties :-)

But I want to share with you is what Harold said just as I turned onto Lamont from Garnet. It's what his brother told him and he repeated it a couple of times so that the driver could memorize it:

"I pretty much won the race with what I brought home. I know that. I'm not bragging. I've just done really pretty good for myself."

If Harold can say that -- living alone, dependent upon public transportation/the CQ Taxi, now medically-disabled from his job, and certainly not spending money on his clothes, and with a lifetime of others pointing out the obvious -- then maybe about 90-something% of the rest of us can work to get to the place to be able to say that about ourselves, too.

Crab Queen, social commentator, out.

Don't think this infringes...because my singing is so baaaaad.

Charlie Turns 6, Day 1 Photos

Happy Birthday to Charlie-boy!



The Naval Crab fetched McDonald's to celebrate.


Enjoying the happiest of (mc)meals.

Lucy has Envy Eyes, which no editing tool can correct!





The face of happiness...definitely CakeEyes (TM) there.

Birthday Tradition (obviously involving Cake) in which the Birthday Celebrant selects his exact slice of cake.



The birthday cake cleaver...Yan Can Cook but CQ Can Cut Cake!
(Patty Lisa NYC, the swag is still in action).
Note: objects in photo are much larger in reality.


When I am six, I'm clever as ever...I think I'll stay six forever and ever.

Friday, July 17, 2009

This just in: Jamie and the eye doctor

In approximately 90 seconds of face time with the MD (following 15.5 minutes in line just to check-in, 22 minutes waiting past our appointment time chatting with a retiree so as not to slay Jamie in front of a teeming witness-packed waiting room for a. waking LLGA and b. putting his hands in his mouth a dozen times, 11 minutes with the eye tech -- including 4 minutes reviewing his meds and 2 minutes confirming why we were there AGAIN, and another 6 minutes in a second-tier waiting area), the MD pronounced that Jamie would be seeing the cornea specialist next time. Early September and let's hope his pressure maintains as the steroidal drops are continued until that time.

Are we having FUN yet?


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But, wait, overheard in the waiting room from the Least Likely of Sources. Some gruff chief in camouflage who'd seemed to have been glaring at Jamie for 11 minutes or more, totally melted when LLGA (awake now, see above) emerged from the stroller-cocoon.

He said (and I quote):
"I'm sure you hear this all the time, but she looks JUST like the Gerber (TM) baby."

----

Jack is at Troop overnight at Camp Balboa. As Jamie put it, "We're having a Jack-free Night."


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But, wait, while we're on the subject of eyes, I thought I'd punish myself and the Crab's bank account by looking around (get it, looking?) and noting that all the boys who wore glasses have stopped without really a doctor's opinion about that cessation.

So, on Aug. 18 (happy b-day to Jack), the four younger crablets will be going for eye appointments. I fully expect to be purchasing 3 sets of wire-rims later that day at Costco in time for Good Grades/Back-to-School.

blink, blink.

Because I know at least one of you will wonder, "Self, I wonder if the Crab Queen thought to ask for a multi-crablet discount?"

The answer is ABSO-freaking-LUTELY with twittering as a response. (Twittering classic, not the techno-tweeting). Jamie and Charlie have a return patient discount but Jack is full-fare. Lucy, however, is FREE.

Video: Crabby Scuttling :-)

Video: Toddle-Toddle LLGA

Video: LLGA -- To Toddler and Beyond!