Monday 19 December 2016

Sickness #2

I haven't posted anything on my blog for a year. I've been writing a post about our whole big move but that's taking a back seat until I exorcise the rage demon currently inhabiting my body. So far, in an effort to do this I've rage filled the dishwasher, rage soaked my oats in preparation for porridge, rage watched an episode of Star Trek TNG and rage fried an egg for my daughter's breakfast, it was star shaped. Though greatly reduced, the demon still persists. So rather than disappear and play a computer game as is my want, I've decided to blog. Before we continue please be aware that there will likely be some rather profane language used. I don't swear often and when I do I make good use of it, now is definitely time for some salty language.

Our wee boy Benny is sick again. If you have read the original post about sickness you'll see that it ended with me outlining our decision to leave HK for the health of our family. Now, for 3 out of the 4 members of our family this has definitely proven to be an effective step towards better health. We have left HK and up until last month not one of us had been on antibiotics in just over a year, the kids daily medication has been greatly reduced, Carys' allergies have largely cleared up. The positive impact on their health has been a huge positive. Except this hasn't really been true for Benny. My wee man just can't catch a break. He's been hospitalised 3 times since being here. Twice for respiratory issues and once for surgery to remove his adenoids in the hope of solving the respiratory issues. The last time he was in, which was about 4 weeks ago, his blood oxygen level was so low he was in serious distress. Now he's sick again with, drum-roll....respiratory issues. I'm hopeful he's just caught my end of term exhaustion sickness / cold / Man Flu (which is REAL, it's an affliction). A lot of what he's got is what I had, only because he's little his body is fighting much harder. The cough alone sounds like a bass drum. 



As a parent you have to accept sickness. Your kids will get sick. They will touch everything and anything with their hands, feet, tongues, nose, mouth, eyeballs, it really doesn't matter. If your child can jam something into an orifice, be it something they pick up off the ground or a part of their own body which has just come into contact with something on the ground, they will almost certainly do so. Why you may ask? Because it delights them to see you shriek and flap like an ineffectual harpy at them. Also because they might quite like the taste of a commuter's freshly discarded, crushed under foot, crunchy possible foot item. Or perhaps they just love the taste of months old, but still slightly squishy gum stuck under a park bench. As a special needs teacher I should also point out that your child may also have sensory issues (whew glad I reassured everyone by throwing THAT into the mix). When you or I look at these things with parents eyes we see scrofula, herpes, poo, and projectile vomiting straight out of the Exorcist. In the child's mind they don't think of these things as cesspits of disease, they see something potentially edible and tasty or just something they can use to pass the time.



I vividly remember eating a peanut off the playground, it had been stepped on but it still tasted of peanut. I could have been 7 at the time, or 14. Actually now that I think about it, these old habits have just come right back into fashion since being a parent. Whoops, child you just dropped the whole plate of dinner I just spent half an hour making. Oh well, no big loss, scrape it up, back on the plate, NOM NOM, mmmmm delicious. I drop food on the floor almost daily, not because I'm wasteful but because invariably a child has appeared like a poltergeist directly in my path. Actually that's a lie, they almost never appear like poltergeist, usually they do it while making about as much noise a train derailing, complete with wailing and shrieking of passengers. Actually you know what, they appear like Kanye, rambling about stuff he just made up like it's God's gift directly to you, demanding all the attention and treats for himself and not giving a fuck what anybody else thinks or want.



Anyway, I digress. What do you do as parents when your kids are sick? Well that's one of many million dollar questions in parenting. The truth is, it doesn't matter how small or large the sickness is, generally there's always a part of you that's scared shitless. The more sick they are, the more terror you feel. When I came home from a work trip overseas I found Benny gasping for air, barely able to draw a breath. This is literally as I walked in the door and dropped my cases. Immediately I knew something was seriously wrong, so I set about treating him as best I could. The next morning we were at the hospital and this was when we found he was in respiratory distress. By the time he was in hospital he was actually breathing better! You can imagine how little oxygen he must have been getting the night before. You can also imagine the cascade of emotions I felt, and probably Sher too. Guilt over being away from him, horror at finding him in such a state, runaway imaginings of what might have happened if I had gotten home later. And anger. So much anger. I get angry, not at the kids, because it's not their fault, but at the actual sickness. I hate it. I hates it like Golem hates Bilbo. 

As parents there's very little we can actually do. Your child's body has to fight the illness, the bacteria or the virus. The best you can do is make sure they receive proper medical care, continue the treatment all the way through and provide them with lots of comfort. Oh and vaccinate them against everything you possibly can, because not doing so makes you ignorant, a menace to society, a danger to my children, and a terrible parent. By not vaccinating you're essentially saying you're alright with your child, my child and any number of other children in our community either dying or becoming horrifically sick because of your idiot choice. Now, back to comforting the sick. We were supposed to be attempting sleep training again this week. Yes, yes, I know, it's going on 6 years now and we still aren't sleeping through the night. That's a different, much more exasperated and much more profane blog post. The point is, there's no sleep training happening now. Benny is sleeping in the big bed with Mum so she can keep an eye on him and help him when he needs. I sleep in the kid's room with Carys. This leads to awful sleep for Sher, an almost broken back for me, but also a whole lot of comfort for our little ones. It doesn't matter that only one is sick, the other one is sensitive the fact her brother is sick and reacts to it. She needs comfort and hugs too. We're an extremely huggy family. 

One last thing and then I'm done with this rather rambling rant. I'm an atheist. It's taken me a while to be comfortable with saying this, partly because there's always that irrational part of my brain wondering if I'll be struck down for saying the words and partly because I don't want to offend anyone. I bring this up because even though I'm an atheist I can tell you I try bargaining like hell when the kids get sick, like Benny has been. Especially now because he's been perma-sick for about 6 months, it's always the same shit and I'm now really worried for him. You will do literally anything to help your child. This is something you understand intellectually before you have kids, but it's something you know viscerally once you have them. It is a brutal, agonizing feeling which comes from a place of deep love. I would do anything to take Benny's sickness and pain away. At this point I don't care about the arguments that it's making him stronger and healthier in the long run. Screw all of that. I want my son to be well for more than 4 weeks at a time. If they ever invent a way for people to transfer a person's pain to another person you can bet your ass parents will be lining up around the block to volunteer. I'm sick of my son's sickness. Sick of the pain it brings him. Sick of the emotional and physical distress is causes him. Just fucking sick of sickness. I want it banished like an evil spirit or better yet, burned at the stake. I'd dance naked around that particular pyre. More than anything I want, so desperately, for my family to be well, to be healthy. And not just for a few weeks. I mean seriously, long term, forever, happily-ever-after healthy. Right now I'm too bogged down in woods to see the trees, let alone any light that might be spilling in. Other than my wee man's happy face, that brings me such joy and I'm eternally thankful for him and my whole family.

Sunday 17 January 2016

Anti-Social

I was supposed to go out  last night. I didn't. It was an opportunity for me to connect with some of the new people I'm working with. I feel pretty shitty about not going because I said I would and then bailed. This isn't totally unusual for me. People think I'm anti-social, I'm not. I love being with other people and having a good time. I don't go out much for a few reasons. Well two really.

I find going out on my own with people I'm unfamiliar with to be difficult. It's not because I'm an asshole though. Not always anyway. I've never been a social butterfly, I always had my group of friends and that was enough for me. I didn't go out partying when I was younger except in the first year of uni and that was because I had friends who also wanted to go out or who worked behind the bar so I could get cheap drinks. When I get to a party or whatever social event it is I'm fine and 95% of the time I'll enjoy myself and be glad I went. Getting there is always a challenge though. Partly it's because I don't like to leave the kids at home with a babysitter. We use a great person and the kids love her, but I just prefer to be with my semi-insane offspring. I've said it before, I'm acutely aware that my kids are only going to be this little for a short period of time. Carys is already 5, she looks completely different now and is still changing everyday. Benny is getting bigger and more assertive, he's changing as well. I just never want to waste an opportunity to be with my kids while they still want to be with me. They amaze me everyday, and I say this without exaggeration. They also drive me up the wall and I want them to leave me alone sometimes, particularly when they wake me in the middle of the night by screaming my name across the hallway. Still, I'd prefer to be with them than out at a party. Mostly. So, reason one, I don't like to leave my kids but that's actually never a deal breaker and is something I can get over. On to reason two!

I get incredibly anxious before going out. I feel my body become more and more tense. There's a little voice in my head which tells me I'd be much happier if I just stayed at home. I could read a book, play games, be with the kids, cook or just rest. It's says "you know you don't really want to go. If you stayed home you be much more comfortable. No traffic, no 'meeting social expectations', no talking about things you don't really care about." The voice knows ever reason why I don't want to leave the house. "They'll be drinking and you don't really like that, they'll talk about 'the markets', finance, or maybe even sports. Nothing on the face of the Earth turns you off more than some alpha male blowhard talking about how great/shit their favourite team is right now. Or some wanker banker talking about the millions they've made in the blah, blah, blah money, blah, blah, blah, tiny penis. What do you care about it. You know you can't feign interest in any of that. Stay home. Be creative and be alone, it's what you say makes you happy." The trouble is it doesn't make me happy at all. I feel crushingly lonely while the voice is speaking, it's a physical sensation in my chest. The voice speaks so loudly it drowns out the other voice which quietly says "I rather like people actually, and I have a good time with them." If I'm with Sher I'll go because there's safety in going with her. The voice still shouts but Sher reminding me to get ready is far louder and more intimidating, not to mention her voice is actually real.

Being in a new country with new people makes things all the more isolating. Sher is incredibly outgoing. She literally made friends here before we even left Hong Kong. She's now well connected with a strong base of friends. I'm not. There are people I work with who I definitely would like to be with outside of work, but I don't know how to ask which sounds incredibly stupid but I just don't. It's not something I've ever really done. I didn't even ask Sher out on a date, we met at a bar and she asked/dared me to meet her in Macau the next day, I didn't have to do anything except turn up for the hot lady. We recently had a party at our house which was brilliant because the people were lovely and we played a game which is something I love to do. In this case it was Cards Against Humanity, if you haven't heard of it then watch the video below, in fact just watch it because it's fun (skip to 4:15 to see exactly how much fun...just make sure you aren't at work and the kids are around).


I love tabletop games. They afford me the opportunity to have a really good time and be really sociable too, both of which I enjoy. The trouble is, the moment you start talking about tabletop games is the moment people's eyes glaze over and they begin to fantasize about a runaway train crashing through the wall and narrowly missing them (but tragically not you). People associate tabletop games with three things. 


  • First and foremost they think of those enforced games of Monopoly/Game of Life/Charades/Pictionary we all had to play when we were young because our drunk Aunt/Cousin/Friend thought it'd be hilarious. 
  • Second they think of that guy who was ALL about winning in the last game they played; you know the one, he high-fived everyone excessively, sprayed you with spit as he exclaimed how hard he was going to own your ass and always, ALWAYS called you bro or bra. We shall henceforth refer to this type of person as FuckFace. 
  • Lastly people think of awkward geeks breathing heavily as they recount their heroic D&D (Dungeons & Dragons) exploits, especially that time they rescued Princess Askaro'th from the High Priests of The Temple of Fire, the savages had made her wear a leather bodice at least 3 sizes too small so her endowments we thrust almost vertically, spilling out... (cue foggy glasses, wheezing and an inhaler puff). 
There are people like that in the world, but they aren't me and I'm not interested in socialising with them. All of these examples are misconceptions. There's a game for every type of person out there, from casual 15-20 minute games to hour long strategy games to the more prolonged and player driven narrative (Roleplay) games. Some favourite examples are at the end of this entry. I've started getting Carys interested in games and we'll see how long it lasts. We play My First Carcasonne together and she loves it. I so look forward to the day I can play more mature games with her and Benny.

So what to do. I can't not go out ever again, I can't not make new friends, and I definitely can't bail on people continually because then, whether I like it or not, I will be an asshole. I want to go out, connect with people and do what they're interested in. So what I'm going to do is be more sociable. I'll say yes a little more. I'm also going to actively seek out the things I'm interested in, and if those things don't exist I'm going to create them and hope they succeed. And if you're someone I've stood up before please know it wasn't personal and that I really regret it. It wasn't you, it was me and my anxiety.



Quick & Fun




Longer & Super Fun




Much Longer, Super Creative, & Super Fun