Gracie worked nights last weekend so we had Jack and Miss Katie with us.  The weather was halfway decent, not very warm but nice and sunny so I took the opportunity to give Katie a haircut.  I prefer to cut her hair outside because I make such a mess.  Jack decided to get in on the action and Lucy, the beagle, was ever hopeful that one or both of them had some food.

Katie enjoyed seeing her nephew but seemed slightly put out that he had grown so much.  She was very gentle with him and Jack was so kind to Katie it made my cry.  He kept bringing her his favorite toys.

It was a nice visit.  Katie loves babies and I want Jack to be comfortable around his disabled auntie.  

Work continues to be difficult.  Our medical director is becoming even more awful to work with if that's possible.  The techs and the nurses are coordinating our complaints against him and documenting everything.  I am hopeful.  

I'm looking forward to retirement and have decided to retire in September 2022 if all goes well.  I still want to work casual but will be able to work less.  Working casual also tends to protect you from getting drawn into the politics that go on in workplaces.  

Numbers of Covid cases continue to climb here with a huge increase in variant cases.  I was lucky enough to get my first vaccination last week and we will take Katie today as she finally qualifies because of her disability.  Strangely enough Katie doesn't mind needles and loves being out and about, getting to see people and socialize.  It's been a hard year that way for her and she has done amazingly well, far better than I ever could have imagined.

Last week I heard a writer on CBC talking about her new book, "My Own Blood".  The author is Ashely Bristowe and she lives in Calgary.  She has a twelve year old disabled son and she is pissed.  

This is from the prologue,

    "If you're the sort who gets itchy when women swear or threaten casual violence for emphasis, parts of this story will make you uncomfortable.  If, at those moments, you pretend I'm the father of this disabled boy, a man at the end of his rope, it'll all seem way more reasonable.  Then ask yourself why that's necessary, and you'll get to some idea of the societal bullshit mothers of special-needs kids put up with when we have actual, honest reactions to sincerely fucked-up situtations."

I'm loving the book and I've already contacted the author on Facebook messenger and we've been talking.  I want to ask why the world is so afraid of angry women and then I think about what would happen if women expressed their anger for all of the shit we do every single day that isn't acknowledged or appreciated,  for the laundry that gets down and put away, for the clean toilets, for the meals made, for the clean sheets and towels, for the unpaid childcare, for the appointments made and bills paid, things would change and who likes change?  Certainly not the men in charge.  

It is so liberating to read this book.  I was angry for a long time after Katie was born.  Angry that a doctor would be so nonchalant telling me that my beautiful one week old baby might end up blind.  Angry that another doctor told us that Katie might never walk.  Angry that my then husband told me he never wanted a third child, after the two previous conversations with doctors.  Angry that other women had normal babies.  Angry that I would have to take care of this little girl for the rest of my life.  Angry that all the dreams for my baby died overnight.  Angry that I was alone and isolated and had no help from my family, except my mum who told me on a regular basis that Katie would eventually be alright because my mum had her own grief to work through.  Just generally angry, for a long time.  Grief takes time to work through and I understand that now but at the time, I didn't.

So, I'm enjoying this book, almost thirty years after I went through what this woman is going through.  I don't feel so alone.  My feelings have been validated instead of swept under the rug or filed under bitchy mother.  It feels good.