The day after


As I blogged earlier, Roman was given his first dose of the Buspirone or placebo.  I am hopeful that he received the medicine.  If the way he’s acting today is any indication, he did.  Already, he is extremely cranky, just in time for Thanksgiving dinner.  I realize I’m looking for any indication of him getting the medicine instead of the placebo.  But what really matters is when he starts talking in earnest.  I know he’s already well on his way through his awesome schooling and work we do here at home.  I know I’m putting too much faith in the Buspirone, but I can’t help it.

I need something to hold on to.  I need the promise of this drug.  All I want is for Roman to talk.  I’m so scared that he’s never going to get his words to come out.  I know it’s an unfounded fear, as he already has a few his uses with regularity.  Still, it’s my fear.  My mom keeps talking about this boy, Austin, who lives near us.  He’s in his late teens and has never talked.  I can’t imagine the frustration he must go through constantly.  I know that Austin didn’t receive the kind of early intervention that Roman has, and that makes all the difference in the world.

I know I’m rambling in this post.  Sometimes, that’s the only way my brain works.  Thoughts like this invade and all I can do is think in pieces.  So, my words spill out incoherently.  Think of this as a snapshot into my mind.

I wish I had something uplifting or funny to post about today, but I’ve got nothing, just hope.  I have hope that my Bubby will talk and I have hope for this drug trial.  As I get ready to give Roman his second dosing of the medicine, I cling to that hope.

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