Holy cow has it been a long time since I’ve blogged. I’m sure I’m guilty enough to be hauled off to bloggers prison where they feed you bread and water and make you type on typewriters. I do kind of have an excuse. I promise I’ll share it at the end. Anyway, I just read back to my last post and it was on my first night of foster classes. That was two and a half months ago!!! Yikes. But it’s fitting, because tonight was another memorable night in my foster care journey.
My last class.
I have completed my MAPP classes and am now on to the next stage of becoming certified. Everyone keeps asking how soon I could get my first child and the answer is: I have no idea anymore. I used to say about a month after my class ends was the soonest. But all of that is dependent on how fast my homefinder wants to move. Apparently there are two perspectives among homefinders. One that believes you should help process potential parents through as quickly as possible, which means starting that process during their classes. And the other which believes you should wait and see if the potential parents stick through the classes and actually decide to become parents before starting the process. My homefinder is apparently of the second perspective. So, while many of my fellow classmates have been meeting with their homefinders, I’ve yet to talk to mine. And it appears that he may have waited to start my paperwork as well–and that can take several months. So . . . when am I going to get a child?
Who the heck knows.
After my first class I told you I was making guesses about who was going to drop out of the program. I think everyone who I suspected would bow out did. Plus a few others. And then there’s the few random people who you’re skeptical of. The people that you think, “Somebody else please notice that this guy is creepy with a capitol C!” Or the people who blurt out comments and you look around thinking ,”Did anyone else notice the crazy that just spilled out?” They stayed of course.
Tonight one of those people asked me what I do for a living. When I told him I’m a pastor he looked at me and said, “I would never have guessed that. I mean, you’re not a roller.” Yeah, crazy. I’m not sure if I should take his surprise as a supreme compliment or an epic failure. Probably somewhere in the middle.
Anyway . . . I used to post pics of my latest foster kid purchases. It’s been several months and so there’s been a lot of progress. So instead of random pics, I thought I’d show you the kiddos room.
You can just barely see the corner of the crib. I’m planning on being available to take a wider range of kids, so I have both a twin bed and a crib. I’m going to paint some artwork for the walls, and I’m still looking for a few more pieces of furniture. (If you happen to know someone willing to sell a dresser that could also serve as a changing table and a small nightstand at a low cost, let me know!) Mostly though, the room is coming together. I have a closet piling up with cabinet locks, outlet plugs, baby towels, pajamas of all sizes, snack cups, baby monitors, kid-proof cups, bibs and tons of other stuff. My Amazon wish list for my foster kiddos keeps growing, but the essentials are coming together.
In other news, the last two and a half months I have been incredibly sick. (Hence the long hiatus from blogging.) It started in September and for a couple of weeks I held out from going to the doctor. My friends told me I probably was going to need gallbladder surgery and I was trying to wait for that until after I completed a huge event at work. Probably not my wisest idea ever. But textbook me. Workaholic is my middle name.
Anyway, I completed the event and the next day went into my primary care doctor. He agreed–I was probably going to need surgery. He sent me home with orders for tests but told me he thought I’d end up in the ER for surgery that night before the test would even be able to be scheduled. The next day I went into the ER (all kinds of craziness) and was admitted. They were going to run another test, but the consensus was still the same–I’d probably have surgery the next day. Only the next day they decided it wasn’t my gallbladder and they had no idea what it was. So they kept me in the hospital for several more days. Doing absolutely nothing. Running no tests. Sending no doctors to see me. Just me and my roommate who kept the TV on 22 hours a day listening to ear trash. (“I know he’s cheatin’ on me and I’m ’bout to have his baby. And so I went and slept with his brother. So now nobody believes me ’bout whose baby it is.”)
After a week in the hospital I went home. But I was still out from work for another week almost. I kept going to doctors visit after doctors visit and test after test. I’ve had a endoscopy, multiple blood work tests, Celiac’s test, CT scan, stomach emptying test, upper GI scan, sonogram, a HIDA scan, and on and on. And I still have two more tests to go. Ultimately they have found nothing. But yet I’m still experiencing pain, nausea, vomiting, and weight loss.
Finally I decided to go see a Naturopathic doctor. I’ve only been once, but so far she’s listened to me far more than all the other doctors and nurses I’ve seen in the past two months. Combined. She put me on a gluten-free, dairy-free, protein-rich diet with tons of supplements. It’s only been about a week so I’m not sure if it will help, but I’m hoping.
So that’s my life, internet peeps! What’s going on with you?