mia_mcdavid

07:49 am: Meanwhile, back at the ranch...
So, the plan is:  Tom goes to school for a little bit this morning.  Then we organize getting him to the group home, then we leave for the Renfaire up north in Twig.

On the Tom front, it's all going according to schedule.   We have moved electronics and some clothes and books to the group home already, and will move more stuff when he goes this afternoon.  I went shopping with the house manager yesterday to get his favorite gluten-free, casein-free groceries in.  The furniture was supposed to come yesterday, and we *finally* got them a copy of the psychiatrists' orders for all the meds.  We're having a kind of going-away gathering in the middle of the day; some of his old aides want to come over and help with the move.  He's on track to be out and gone by the middle of the afternoon.

However, the rest of the plan?  James developed a swollen toe, so we took him in and got him antibiotics.  Not a deal-killer, right?  Well, last night he developed a swollen toe on the other foot.  This does not fit the pattern of an infection.  He says all his toes hurt; they all feel hot to the touch.

New Dr.'s appointment at 11:20.  Glenn is packing the wagon; if James is too sick to go, it's my turn to stay home.  I have no idea what's wrong with James' feet.

Watch this space . . .

07:04 pm: It is finished
Mind, I do feel a little like Judas.  We took Tom to the group home.  He has his TV, VCR, and Nintendo in his room.  He thinks it's just swell.  He's so happy.  I wonder if he'll ever go to sleep tonight.

On the other hand, I'm sure he doesn't understand that he is not coming home.  He's used to being taken other places, and he has a wonderful time, and after a few days we come and get him.  We're not coming to get him.  It'll probably hit the first time I come to visit and leave without him; I'm not looking forward to that.

But, it had to happen, and it's done, and it's for the best, and he will adjust well.

sob!

08:24 pm: It's the little things . . .
I was cleaning the kitchen, and when I saw that the strainer wasn't in the sink drain, I put it in.

Tom always insisted that the side with the disposal was supposed to have the strainer.  He would move it over; we would move it back.  Day in and day out since he was old enough to reach the sink.

I put it in the drain.  It will stay there now.        8 O

In other news, James' toes are no worse.  He's still insisting they all hurt, but there's still only the one that's markedly swollen.  He and I are staying home tonight, but I think we'll go up to Twig in the morning.

I'm tired now . . .