Morning Start

So this morning we discovered an intractable piece of glass embedded in Olivia's foot. (It's been there a while, apparently.) After ten minutes of Larry digging while I hugged her, we didn't get it out. We're geared up for a second attempt this afternoon after kindergarten. Poor thing. She milked the sympathy thing, though, and got not one but two pieces of chocolate out of the deal -- before breakfast. There's got to be some kind of bad mother police coming to my house soon with a citation for deleterious parenting and notice to answer charges in front of a jury of my peers. Then Paul wants some, of course. "Choc? More?"

(Notice his facility with simple sentences? His first was "Tickle don't." Yes, I'm obnoxiously proud.) At left is a more updated photo than in the last post.





Jennifer (20-y-o niece) heads up to Great Falls today to see a neurosurgeon, the one who diagnosed her. I can't get her off my mind this morning. I'd really like to go with her and my sister, but I don't have anyone to watch the kids, and their noise and activity level can be a bit much. Jenn has Neurofibromatosis Type 2. She's had two brain surgeries, one spinal surgery, and one round of whole-brain radiation. She's having a hell of a time with exhaustion, dizziness, vertigo, and a host of other fun stuff. This doctor hasn't actually treated her, but she's going to see him so she can have someone more local than the admittedly wonderful people in Salt Lake City. If he and the local neuro could handle half of her needs, it would save her a lot of travel. If you need serious medical care in Montana, you mostly go out of state. (Here's a wierd trivia fact: a high number of the Montana patients seeking treatment in SLC are self-immolators.)

On the good news front, she had me take her to the chi-chi hair salon here in town to order a wig. I have to say I fell in instant like with the co-owner, Joe Hrella. We sat, he got her tea, made sure she liked it and it was the right temperature, answered her questions and visited with her like an old friend. He talked to her, not to me -- for which I am so grateful -- some people aren't comfortable talking to someone obviously ill so they talk to her mother or me or whoever is with her. The wig will be here Monday, and if she's up to it we'll go get it fitted.