Huh? We're on vacation?

Oh, I wouldn't have known that, since I've spent the last couple of days nursing sick kids.


I did manage to shoot five photos since yesterday...this one shows KTN's awesome houses...

My husband called while I was in Seattle, around three thirty am and told me that Koy had another migraine, and what should he do about it?... So, I have him the schpeel:

Dark Room. Quiet Room. Cool Room. Two Advil. Plenty of water. Lots of Sleep.

When I arrived, he was not the kid I sent to have fun in Ketchikan. He was the sick kid who scares me with his dreams and hallucinations. Max wasn't feeling too well either. He's got the case of Pepto-needing illness...all five symptoms. Dean thought maybe it was because of the heat.

This morning, we woke up with a startled kid in our faces, saying, "MOM!" He jumped over and immediately started to throw up. I knew he was gone by then. Since then, he's hallucinated only once and Dean's gotten to experience it for the first time. Not fun...

Can I just say...I feel very sorry for the natives in Ketchikan. My husband thought it would be easier to go to the native hospital here, and we were there for HOURS. We had to get the charts from Kotzebue, fill out paperwork, and wait for information.

Did they triage him? No. They said, "Oh, we can see you on Monday..." Uh, NO...MONDAY will NOT be OK. So, I gave them my best bear-mom speech, which may or may not have included words like "private insurance...if we were white...are you crazy...he has a FEVER of 103 and you're sending us off till MONDAY...what's wrong with you people..."

Yeah. So far we've seen a lot of hills, and big ships, and trees. Its been ABSOLUTELY beautiful here, but here I sit, finally blogging, because we FINALLY saw an actual doctor who gave him what he HOPEFULLY needed to get over this three day migraine, and he's sleeping in a cool, quiet, dark room now.


My non-sick kids.

On another note, I've met so many people, I don't recall a single name. So, if you read this blog, and I forget your name. I'm sorry. But I really do have a lot of things that I have to remember, one being Koy's ENTIRE health history from birth until 12 years old, because when you're native, you don't see the same provider EVER, so you have to recite the entire history over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over, oops, I got carried away. And over again. I've long since thought about actually recording his history onto a memory stick and then just printing it out whenever we go to the hospital! I wonder if that would work.

Anyway...tomorrow is the memorial for Papa, and Dean's been busy coordinating the missing man formation fly-by, and we've been working on the slide presentation and the funeral programs. So, I just hope Koy feels good enough to go tomorrow.

So, if you're religious, please pray for my son. He wants nothing more than to be able to go outside and enjoy this weather and new place. If you're not...pray to Venus, or Allah, or your cats for him to get better. I'd really appreciated it...and I'll take anything right now.

Our next course of action will be to fly him to Seattle. Sigh....

(P.S. We are staying out of cell reception and I found a place in the house that gets ONE bar of free wireless reception! I'm typing as fast as I can!!!)

My Boy...

So... today my son and I leave to the big city...almost six hundred miles away... so he can get a "brain scan" as Kaisa calls it. Since Alaska has only one pediatric neurologist, we had to wait for an appointment. It's tomorrow morning. Finally. Its bittersweet. I want to know...but do I want to know?



Its funny how these things work up in the north. When I lived in Orlando, you made a same-day appointment for emergent, but not emergency things, or made appointments for regular check ups with the same doctor your parent's had and sometimes, your grandparents. Not so, up in the North Country.

We have to be "referred" to any specialist, anything a family doctor can't handle goes to a specialist. Specialists are in Anchorage or beyond. You can't just hop a plane to Anchorage, and make your own appointment...noOOOooo. You have to have a doctor refer you and then travel. That goes for doctors, dentists, etc.



For years, and I mean YEARS, my son has experienced debilitating migraines, where he cried, but hurt to cry, light sensitivity, nausea, aura's, the whole ten yards. I've brought him to the doctors here for as long as I can remember. They've used him as a guinea pig with a plethora of medications. Some that made him tired. Some that made him cranky, some made him crazy. "Side effects include - hallucinations, may experience aura's."

I've asked to have a specialist see him, I've asked to be referred to another doctor, one who may know more about kids brains...but of course, the doctors know more than you do, even though you know the sounds of his cries, you can tell if he's sick, or tired, or hurt. You know the sound of his breaths...you can tell what kind of day he'll have just by looking into his dark brown, serious eyes. No, you don't know much about your kid...they have to know more than you do. Or so they say.



So, today, we will be making the 600 mile journey on a 747 to an actual neurologist. I hope they tell me not to worry, I hope they tell me he'll grow out of them. I hope they tell me everything's fine...but its hard not to worry. This is the kid who never cried. This is the kid who had a 106 temperature and when asked how he was feeling, he simply replied, "fine." Same kid that cut his lip at age two, walked up to me and said, "mommy, I cut my yip, yook..." and blood splattered everywhere. Six stitches, still no tears. Only a two inch scar.

This is the kid who incubated, survived awful surroundings, and just plain surviving with me for twelve years! This is my son, the person who forced me to grow up, forced me to leave a bad situation and think of someone else. This is my child who allowed, no taught, me to live and love. This is the oldest child, who takes the blame and responsibility for his sister and step-siblings, whenever. He protects them, and takes care of them. He fights with them, but you'd be damned if you ever thought about fighting with them yourself, you'd have to answer to him. This is the kid who cried uncontrollably at his sister's story and bravery, telling everyone that SHE (at age five) is his hero. This is the kid I talked to sleep for days after we all heard "her story."



I want to yell at him and tell him he's late. I want to ground him for talking to a girl at 2:00 a.m. I want to stop him and his brother and sister's from fighting over who get's to play the Wii. I want his energy to continue, I want him to stop missing school because of his headaches. (eighteen days this year) I want him to get good grades, and not miss Algebra tests. I want him to travel to the Villages with his basketball/wrestling/NYO team, instead of sitting in a drunken stupor in the hospital, talking nonsense, thanks to the medical cocktails they pump into him. I want him to fly our airplane.



I'll take his migraines. I'll take whatever's ailing him. Just let him be OK.