The past couple of days have been hectic. I have desired to write every night and have been unable so I decided on these occasions that I just try to stay connected to you, my readers. The past week has been a wide range of emotions.
 My uncle has dementia and is nearly eighty. He broke his hip about two weeks ago and thankfully his son is doing his very best to provide care for his dad. It is stressful to say the least. I have not seen my uncle for awhile as he lives in a facility where he can get 24/7 care and his world is more manageable. Since he went to the hospital, I have seen him a few times and had nice visits. The caretaker in me is strong as ever. I worried he would get pneumonia, as he was short of breath, and I know that happens so often with people after surgery. I believe the quality of care is compromised as many places are understaffed. Last year, I used a cough assist machine for my son for 4 times each day for 4 days and this kept him from getting pneumonia. I was exhausted but he stayed out of the hospital and this was my goal. When a person cannot cough unassisted, a cough assist is used for patients with Cystic Fibrosis, Muscular dystrophy and other illnesses. Anyhow, I was worried and my cousin confirmed that the nurses were getting him out of bed regularly. It is hard to see the people you love lose their abilities.
 Then on Valentine’s Day, I took my 2 dogs, Daisy Mae and Schultzie to the groomer. When my son, JT, picked up the dogs, as I was at another appointment, Schultzie was not well. He was falling on the ice and my son attributed it to being slippery. I thought the dog appeared to be drugged and my other dog was acting strangely as well. The following morning I took Schultzie to the vet who confirmed he had a heart murmur [He is an old dog of 14] He noticed the dog tilting to the right and showed me his eyes rolling to the right which also confirmed that he had a stroke. He could not keep his balance, very disoriented and as if he was in a drunken state. He received a steroid shot and took home some anti-inflammatory pills. It was a tough day. My sister was also having a medical procedure that day as well. She is doing well.
 Since it has been a week of many medical affiliations, I have thought about some instances which may help some of you. Nobody knows you or your loved ones like yourself. I have had the pleasure of meeting some fine doctors and I have met a few whom I have questioned. I have drawn a few conclusions from my own experiences and some from the stories of others. I believe a good doctor is one who educates us and allows us to educate them from time to time.
 One doctor told me that I needed to tell my son, Mike, everything that would happen to him with his prognosis. This was after he became dehydrated and was found to be taking medicine which was appropriate for most people but not for people with Muscular Dystrophy and as a result, he went into cardiac arrest and respiratory failure. The doctor who told me this was the doctor who brought him back to life, not once, but 4 times. This was a rare instance when he thought my son might end up using a ventilator for the rest of his life. I shot back that my son was nowhere near having bad pulmonary functioning at this time and we never expected this to happen. I was so angry and the doctor knew this. The reason behind his stern manner was that there are many people who never tell their children anything about their illness. The kids sometimes grow up believing that the disease is their own fault. All a parent needs to do is to listen to their kids questions and give them an age appropriate answer. Do you think I knew this from day one? NO!!!! I grew into it as my son taught me along the way. Kids need information on their illness so they can be empowered along the way. This doctor could not possibly know all of this because he probably did not have a disabled child. The school wanted him to know all about his illness as well, life expectancy and all of that. That is our job as parents to guide our kids along the way, so they are emotionally healthy as well. To tell a kid or anyone for that matter that they have 2 years to live [just an example]… is to take away all hope and dreams…. It is not right. We have to grow into everything. I have had many experiences with doctors, and schools, mostly good ones.
 Perhaps you will understand why I became so emotionally charged when I heard this story. I know many types of parents who have disabled kids. I believe there is a fine line between denial and neglect. To deny a surgical procedure which will make quality of life better for a child is beyond my comprehension. Scoliosis surgery is needed for many who use wheelchairs. The window of opportunity for the surgery is limited as it has to be done before the kids are put on heart meds. The spine crumbles and the lung function is greatly compromised. Most who do not receive this surgery, cannot sleep in a bed as the pain is great. I know some who sleep in their wheelchairs. Pulmonary function decreases about 15-20 % each year if the surgery is never done. One parent had a brother who died from this illness and it has affected how she is raising her own boy with the same illness. It is as if his illness is a shame and they try to keep it all a secret. I feel bad that the boy probably does not know what is happening to him. Of course this is no business of mine but it makes sense the doctor blasted me that day. However, I am not one of those parents. My husband and I have tried to provide both of our sons with the resources they needed along the way.
 The big lesson here is that if things do not seem right , do not be afraid to ask your doctor questions. They are human and sometimes make mistakes, but they should listen to your concerns.  Advocate for yourself and your loved ones.