Something Good is Going to Come
And I started going right back into that helpless anxiety spiral I was in with her last year. Then two days later that guy called us back and said one of their team, a psychiatrist, was interested in talking to Rhiana and seeing if there was anything they could do to help with her sleep, at least.
Today we went back, and met Scott, the psychiatrist. When we left, I suggested to Karl that we marry him. He's American, he's only been in the country a couple of months. And he specialises in sleep disorders in disabled kids. He was the first person to tell us that sleep disturbance is really, really common in hearing-impaired kids. And he said, we'll help you, we'll sort this out. We have prescriptions. (Welcome to a socialised health system, this will cost NOTHING!) We have a regime. More appointments, blood tests.
Mostly today was family history, Rhiana's medical history, lots of questions for me and Karl. Next time, next week, he just wants to talk to her one on one for a bit. And she may even talk to him, because she seems to like him. And everything we told him seemed to make sense, this is all very familiar to him.
I am... I have hope back. It hurts. But maybe, maybe there's an end to this. a future for her.
Mum. I'm getting fucked around by the trustees of her will. Really must try to sort that out. There are still some big decisions we need to make. I'm going down again weekend after next to clean out some more of her stuff and try to talk to my brothers. My cousin has offered to come with me, which'll be a massive help. She's been so brilliant through all of this.
Her daughter Sarah emailed me a couple of days ago to thank me for the ring of Mum's I gave her, which she hasn't taken off. I gave her a copy of a photo of Mum she loved, and gave her the link to the column I wrote about Mum. She just emailed to tell me she cried reading it, that she hadn't really stopped for long enough to let the grief hit until she read that. And then she printed it out and gave it to her mother, and told her not to read it until she was alone.
That column was important for me, in processing all of this. I didn't really helplessly cry until the day I put that up. But I feel like... I gave something back. To her, and to the people who knew her, and people who'd never even met her. I'm grateful to have the opportunity, and the ability, to do that.
It's all been a bit much.