Raining shoes...

For anyone who might be reading (although I doubt there is), I will now expound on a few other issues that arose at about the same time as Bird's diagnosis.

My mother moved in with me the previous October. I love her dearly. However, she has memory issues. She doesn't drive. She is often rigid in her behavior. And what she decided to pay me after she moved in was half of what her living here ended up costing me and way more than that less than she told me she would contribute to the household.

My son had to have his wisdom teeth out.

I was informed that the overtime I'd had for the previous year or so was ending due to budget cuts and there would be no raises.

Yeah, it wasn't the best of times. It was also along about this time that I realized, on a visceral level, that I was all alone in this. I wasn't going to get the level of emotional support I needed. I shoved that into the closet, too, with the fear.

But, there are silver linings and sunny streets if one can just look for them.

As soon as I had the diagnosis and the doctor's appointments, I called the school and spoke to the principal. I explained the situation, that Bird didn't know and she would be told soon. I wanted them to be aware and to be ready for any adverse reactions on her part. I emailed them information on Turner Syndrome. Like me just a couple of months before, they had never really heard of it before. I waited a few days before speaking to Bird about it. I had decided that an offhand, oh by the way, approach might be best. I started by saying that I had some news and this news explained her flat feet, eyesight, the urinary tract infections she used to get, her ADHD, and her scoliosis. I told her what it was and and what it meant and that she was going to have to go see some doctors. She breathed a huge sigh and said, "Oh, good...I thought I was just unlucky and was waiting on the next little thing to go wrong." Her only real question was if she would get cancer and die from this. I told her no...no cancer.

She handled it with far more grace, dignity and acceptance than I. That, my friends, is a silver lining and a sunny street.