Let’s review the last six months or so. First, some general background. I’m STILL in grad school, with my research going absolutely nowhere fast. I have no money, we’re sinking into debt, and I’m a decade or so older than my grad school peers, so I’ll have that many fewer career years to pay off the debt and save for our future. The good news was that my wife and I have finally managed to have two beautiful little girls after a great deal of effort, heartbreak, and miscarriages.
My oldest daughter had low muscle tone. That was the first thing we were told. As time went on, she was late sitting, late crawling, late everything. Her speech was very delayed. Long story short, last November, she was officially diagnosed with autism. Testing continues to look for an underlying cause, but they probably won’t find anything. If they do find something, it won’t affect treatment or outcome, except possibly to raise the chance that things are far worse than we thought.
Shortly before the diagnosis, though at that point it was clear that it was coming, my second daughter, then four months old, was diagnosed with low muscle tone. Except hers is far more extreme than her sister’s was at that age. We’re supposed to be aiming for her to be sitting without support by around 18 months. Most kids do that at 6 months. We were told that if we work hard with her and are very lucky, then someday, perhaps she’ll be able to stand and walk. With crutches or a walker. Oh, and since both kids have low muscle tone, they probably both share a common genetic defect. Which means that my second daughter is at a much higher risk of also having autism. But they can’t say for sure, because symptoms never start to show until she’s nine months old.
So, these were major blows, of course, but we’ve struggled through them, we’re getting the kids the help that they need, and we’re coming to terms with it all. It’s hard, but we’ve been managing OK.
Then yesterday, I went to the doctor to see if they could figure out why I’ve had nonstop diarrhea for the last year or more (sorry). Turns out I have fucking diabetes. Which has nothing to do with the diarrhea - the diabetes just popped up on the tests. The doctor’s best guess is that my pancreas has just shriveled up into a shrunken scarred ball and quit working, because I had pancreatitis ten years ago, but that’s just a pure guess.
So just fuck everything. I know there will be lots of people ready to offer helpful tips and explain why it’s not as bad as it seems right now - I appreciate that and all, but this isn’t that thread. This is the “fuck life” thread. This is pure venting. I will get there at some point. I know - after all, it’s the same damn process I’ve had to go through more times that I want to remember. Frankly, I really don’t see why I can’t just skip the whole damn thing and move on to acceptance. I’m sick of this process. I’m tired of it.
Now, back to taking more pictures of fruit fly ovaries that no one will ever look at.
