Sunday, April 12, 2015

I don't like you.....and now you know it.

Good morning...back in the surgi center at 8am and feeling a bit fatigued. Between driving to the city and mountains, I have filled my gas tank up five times this week.

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Before I start....Happy Birthday to BP Grandmom! She's the best...ever....just sayin'


So, whazzup? Well.....

I am feeling bad for the big kid but keeping it to myself. His emotions range from the lowest of lows to highs to saltiness and revenge. Live with that, why doncha?


I think that this is all similar to Kubler Ross's death and dying process.....denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Although, Dr. Kubler Ross's stages come in order, right? They don't move from one to the next back to the start then over to acceptance. yet, I have the honor of witnessing these phases at different times of the day, hour, or minute.



For example, he is fine with the college career being over, correct?

Hmmm, yes and no...no and yes....yes....no...no...yes....no......my head hurts....



He is angry with the strength coach who has been heard saying that he did not try enough to play through the pain. He is soft...and so on. Yep, his friends are reporting back to him. He hears it and hits the roof. I don't blame him.



Then, the coaches have not reached out to him to see how he did through the surgery. In fact, they do not know if he lived or not. Not one coach has checked in with him confirming what he has known...they don't like him, never liked him, and glad that he is gone. Plus, since he cannot do anything for them, they could care less. He is not useful, so toss him out.


Last night, the team played a rival who is worse than they are making the team look like a bunch of studs. According to Tonto, not one pitcher hit 88mph. While watching it on television, I could see that he was getting upset, so I turned it off. He continued to follow the progress through twitter but I could see the sadness and bitterness in him. What's a momma to do? Naturally, Tink and I ran to Dairy Queen to pick up an Oreo blizzard for him. This seemed to soften the blows a bit.

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Today, he is back at physical therapy and still on the pain medication. He is going to try to wean himself off before heading back to school. I advised him to take one pill at 2 pm to see how it holds him. Then take one at night to sleep.

On our way to the city this morning, I wanted to perk him up, so I asked him to check into the Oregon pitching coach and make arrangements for the summer. He is also going to a clinic in New Jersey to help to realign his body since his mechanics are off because he was adjusting to the pain.

So, he has a great deal to look forward to and has to get over the angst caused by his last two years at school.

In my mind, he did get a raw deal, was tough to coach at times, with his potential ignored. As the sports psychologist said to him, 'they never took the time to get to know you.' And he is right. Sadly, he is right. By the way, the good doc contacted him twice in the last two days to see how he was doing.



It's the little things....

Ok, I have to find some Tylenol for this monster headache.

Peace!

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