2001
| November 8, 2001 On Thursday, the 8th of November, we headed over to the weekly chemo event at Stanford. My son, with a perpetual running nose, needed to be seen. Unscheduled, of course. While we were there, we discussed a flu shot. He had not yet had one. My doctor, of course, had snuck up on me in mid-sentence and zapped me early-on. As a primary caregiver, I get these things as soon as available, regardless of the supply. My son, being as bouncy as usual (flirts outrageously with the nurses who all hug him), was in his wheelchair. He's up and down, in and out of the chair depending on his strength. The doctor, very pregnant at this point, said she was "looking for a volunteer nurse" to stick him. In the meantime, we went up to 2 North, his former home, so my son could see another patient having trouble with the treatment program. I stood in the hall while they chatted. Not too shabby. The kid's doctor said he was anti-social. I didn't see that. They chatted up a storm. I then brought him back down and a nurse volunteered to stick him. Shame on her! We came home and I whipped him off to DMV - in his wheelchair. No time like the present and I've wanted a photo-ID form him for some time. Last week, we had popped in to DMV to be told that I had to have his birth certificate, even though he had a driving permit (which meant that they had seen the birth certificate). Since the permit had expired, they said they had erased the files. Right there we see an immediate problem with our DMV unit. They should NEVER, EVER erase files. They should be able to access anything they have ever seen anytime. The cost of disk space just does not warrant their erasing things. But they had. And last week (since he had walked in with his cane) they had told us that we would have to stand in a big, long line. Ha! This week, he rode in the chair. And we went straight to the table for the disabled. Much shorter wait. Now, I had torn the house apart looking for one of the three or four copies of his birth certificate, which also had pointed up the fact that mine was also missing, again. In the process, I had stumbled over the missing pink slip for the truck I had traded in. I had, intelligently, left it right where I spotted it. (Which was handy after I returned from the conference and found that the DMV had "forgotten" that I had paid off the older truck. This pink slip had the bank release on it. Toyota sort of needed it.) I had finally found two of his birth certificates in a file in which they did not belong. I was in meticulous-search mode. That one mother's get in when they know darn well that the elusive object is in the house! So there we were, at the table, at DMV, with a filled-in form and a copy of the birth certificate. He needs a new photo (of course, they erased the other one!). But we also have another problem. The name on the birth certificate and the form we had filled in for his photo ID do not match that name on his social security card. And, yes, they are now checking. On the Social Security card, obtained when he was a young thing, they had used an initial. When he got his disability card, they had not said a thing. Now the deal is, we have to move quick, and get to the social security office soon so the photo ID will go through. We decide, since we have no ID for the flight (takes weeks it turns out), other than an Ohlone College ID card, long expired, which we have been using, we will mosey over to the Social Security office while we are out and about. So we mosey. And we find a short line. And directions. "If you have problems with identification at DMV, this line." Since September 11th, they are more cautious. National security card? We already do state cards. Driver's license and photo ID cards. What's one more database? As long as they promise not to erase anything. Ever. We wait and sure enough, I just have to say, "At DMV-----" and she has an instant routine. Takes the data. We will receive a new card. The disability card is OK as is. I checked. We will fly with the Ohlone card. And a copy of his birth certificate in his wallet. And, since we fly soon, we went to Big & Tall. He needs pants. I had bought two pairs 2XT before - first time his ankles had been covered. I will get two more pairs. I wanted brown but got more black and navy, 1 each. Shirts were on sale so I got him 6 new ones. At his request. And more shorts. And socks. And he tried on boots. Hiking boots. First shoes on his feet in 18 months. And a crazy pair of slippers with a happy face - with tongues hanging out. And he had to have undershirts - the saleswoman had to go to the store room and rummage (and I do mean rummage) through a bunch of boxes, but he has tee shirts, white, no pockets, 2XT. First time he's shown an interest in clothes in 18 months too. My son also discovered he is more stable standing with the boots on. He demonstrates this. He had walked into the store (the wheelchair could not fit in the aisles). OK. Put these things under the tree too. Of course, this never works. No matter how much I spend on my kids ahead of time, with the understanding that "This is Christmas," they still want things under the tree. And I am totally out of ideas. And, after paying cash for the truck, out of money. Meanwhile, I can pack him for the trip to Orlando real easy - just dump everything into a suitcase. Add the other two outfits I already bought and voila! He's packed! Now for me------ |
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