Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Has anyone seen my toes?

So I’ve moved from hurt and anguish through anger to action. I’ve seen the physio again and we’ve devised a rehab program for little O. It’s only a few days into the program and already she’s taking more weight on her pudgy little legs. Particularly if I distract her by singing inane songs and making absurd faces. Before I was a mother, I had something resembling inhibitions. Now, I have no shame. If singing Baa Baa Black sheep while imitating a ferret helps little O walk, I’m your black-sheep-singing-ferret-faced girl.

And then I paused before my dad went into hospital to take a long awaited call from my script editor. He’s just finished another screenplay and finally has time to meet with me to discuss the next phase of my script.

Script?

Am I writing a script?


Oh slam a barge pole into me and remind me I once used to be professional. Arsehole doctors I’m learning how to handle, but now I’m expected to wrangle my script as well?

Have a meeting set up for the new year which means I’m going to have to find time to actually read my work and fathom where I want to take it. Taking it to the garbage tip seems like the cowardly option.

And in pregnancy news my lower back has decided to refer pain to my quadricep. I’d really rather it referred it elsewhere. Like to the shmuck of a doctor who told me O won’t walk.

Off to visit my soon to be part-porcine father. Surgery tomorrow. Babe, Pig in the City next week.

9 Comments:

Blogger -Rama said...

lovely to hear you talk of a script, who cares how long it takes or what what, just talking about it is exciting -

11:08 pm  
Blogger LJ said...

A friend of mine gave birth to a daughter when she was in her forties.
I don't remember the name of the condition Sara had, but I remember the prognosis. Dwarfism (on one side of the body), blindness, mental retardation. Her mom was told to put her in an institution. She didn't.

The community around my friend rallied to make sure Sara got her daily physio. They never gave up and they never stopped expecting Sara to be just fine.

I met Sara at age five - a bright little girl, physically active, normal (except for being above average in intelligence) and lively - and her mom told me that the year before, she'd realized Sara could see. She told the specialist, who responded that it was impossible. Sara's mom persisted. She wanted lenses for her daughter. The specialist continued to stonewall and so Sara's mom threw a dime across the floor and Sara ran over and picked it up. Then the specialist said, "Maybe she can see!" As if Sara's mom hadn't thought of it at all. And he called in other specialists and they prescribed lenses.

I can't tell you how long I've wanted to tell you this. And to say, you don't know yet who O is. But I'm pretty damn sure that she's someone wonderful.

Your script will be fine. You're a born writer. And heck. You can work on it in all that spare time you've got.

11:48 am  
Blogger Stacey said...

hi there. i have been following your posts. you are a stunning writer and thank you for sharing this most personal time with us. i am glad you are finding a way to work with O on your own and make some headway with her walking and all. that must be nice - and may it continue. as for asking about toes....when i lay in bed i can't see anything past the mountain growing atop me. i am so huge. i asked my husband if i looked bigger lately and he said yes everyday. you have to love male honesty. i feel so hot!

7:25 pm  
Blogger surly girl said...

just keep on keeping on. i honestly don't know how you do it. as lucky as you are to have o, she is lucky too to have a family that will push and push and get the best possible treatment for her, and who will give her all the love a little girl could possibly need. hope your dad's op goes ok.

xx

8:36 pm  
Blogger spindleshanks said...

yay for o responding to physio so quickly - you prove those vile doctors wrong little chicken.
when i had my first baby all my labour pain was in my quads - what is that about?
hope all goes well with you dad and that little o continues to work those pudgey legs.
x

2:07 am  
Blogger Kyahgirl said...

I'd love to strange your stupid doctors-they've hurt you in so many ways.

Glad to hear our little O is responding to physio-there is huge power is expecting things to be ok-keep working hard and expecting it and it will happen. I believe that.

Script? I can't believe you can do that on top of all this. You creative type people just amaze me. Wow.

hugs from over here :-)

Laura

3:27 am  
Blogger Kyahgirl said...

of course, that's 'I'd love to STRANGLE your doctors' . what an idiot I am.

3:28 am  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Happy holidays!

I hope the new year brings many blessings for you.

Love, Sassy.

1:00 am  
Blogger Teri said...

Hooray for pudgy little weight-bearing legs!

5:00 am  

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