It's almost June, that means it's almost June 11th which means it's almost Lauren's neurologist appontment. I've been pushing it out of my head for the last month but it creeps closer and closer and closer.
I'm afraid I will leave once again with no direction, no step closer to where she is, and what is wrong. However, I'm equally as afraid that I will leave with an answer. An answer that maybe I'm not sure I want.
I go through stages depending on the moment and the second of the day. In one moment, the doctor can announce she has X (not Autism) and I can leave knowing for once what is wrong with this kid. I can go on to tell my insurance company where to shove Lauren's supposed Learning Disorder and they can start whipping out the funds to pay for her neurolgist appontments.
In another stage, maybe the doctor announces she has Q. Q allows children to develop normally until age 10 and then we'll see dramatic loss of skills, loss of speech, etc. I'm not ready for this.
And maybe, just maybe the doctor will say "her genetic profile is abnormal, but we still don't know what she has. No one has something like this. (this is what I secretly believe). Maybe eventually we'll find out but technology is not there yet. I'd say that they'd name it after Lauren but they never name it after the patient, it's always named after the doctor.
Maybe this is why I've concentrated on posting poems that other people have written. If I focus on other people's issues, I don't have to worry about my own. I wish I could sum up Lauren in a few paragraphs but I can't.
However, if there is one thing that Lauren does well. And there are many things that Lauren does well. Lauren lives in the moment. She focuses on the then and know. She is blissfully unaware of her limitations. So for the next twelve days, I'm going to try that out. I'm going to live with Lauren, in the moment.