Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Train of thought

3:00 a.m.

The sound of a TRAX train coming down the curvy hill at 400 south wakes me up.  It's more than a mile away, but the wheels make quite a racket as it navigates the fault line.

My brain whirls into activity.  This time last night, Ben woke up with a cough and a fever.  We saw the doctor yesterday, and he can go back to school if there's no fever this morning.

I think about D and S, two friends with kids that we haven't seen in a long while.  They used to live right near the squeaky part of the train track.  We keep meaning to get together, but it hasn't worked out in a while.  Maybe we can see them this weekend if everybody gets healthy.  I think about a friend's birthday party I missed this weekend, how to make Valentine's day special for my wife, and what we should do for the brief overlap of spring break for our son's different schools.


My phone buzzes softly next to the bed with new e-mail.  I pick it up and find spam from my older son's Lego obsession.  I also see the mail I got earlier in the evening from a pediatric neurologist.  We're looking for someone to help us manage Ben's case, and she's been very helpful.  It's another expense that won't be covered by insurance, but we have to do it.

My mind drifts to Senate Bill 55, just introduced this week.  That would be huge for us, and many of the families we've met through Ben's school.  The way last year's bill was put down is a painful memory, but we'll keep trying for as long as it takes.

I'm planning to go to the Capitol to talk to our legislators on Thursday, but that's going to be hard if Ben's still sick.


The cat pads into our room and leaps onto my chest, looming over me like a gargoyle.  She reaches out with one paw and squeezes my chin.  I know she wants to be fed, but no way am I walking past Ben's room.  I am quiet like a ninja, but she will start meowing.  I gently squish her to my chest and pet her 'til she's mellow.
I pet her like a Bond villain and my brain starts up again.

Kitty, do not hop on Pop...

I think about how interested Ben was in reading Hop on Pop yesterday - he was identifying words - maybe just by memory, but that's still encouraging.

The ipad has been great for him.  There's one app that involves lots of matching and prepositions and such.  It makes a silly "boop" sound when he picks the wrong thing and he rarely waits to hear the instructions before he starts touching the screen.  One night I sat down with him in a quiet moment and held the pad out of his reach until the instructions were given.  He was getting 90-95% of things right...things we didn't know he knew.

I think about how I need to learn how to make apps.  A few minor changes to how that one was implemented would make it 10x better for him.  Maybe I could even make some money that could help with speech therapy and all those other things our insurance company doesn't cover.

4:30 a.m.

Ben rattles his door.  I slip on my britches and go to check on him.  He's turned on his light and is rocking in his big orange chair, happy as a clam, but bright with fever.


  1. ugh! Sick kiddos are tough! Good to see your blog again, Jon.

  2. Thank, man! Hope y'all are well.


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