Calling all celiacs

I believe in the power of the blogosphere.

I believe it has the power to bring together people and ideas and advice.

And knowledge.

Here's the deal:

Rob's mom had her first chemotherapy treatment last week and it did not go well. She suffered mightily from every possible damn side effect, was re-admitted to the hospital twice and has resided there since Monday.

What is complicating her ability to tolerate the chemo treatments is apparently her body's inability to retain potassium. She can take it in, has been taking it in, under medical supervision even, but her body will not retain it. She and her doctors know this inability to retain potassium is related to her celiac disease, but no one is quite sure how to get around it.

She feels, we feel, that what is lacking is someone fully versed in the effects of celiac disease on the body and specifically how a celiac sufferer might counteract his or her body's inability to retain potassium.

Any bloggy angels out there with any thoughts on this? Please e-mail me directly at donmillsdiva@hotmail.com.

Thanks to each and every one of you for your kind comments and e-mails this past week. I expect to be back soon with a substantive post because this break has made it clear to me that, even in the midst of stress, this space, and all of you, sustain me.

Oh yes you do.

Losing the battle

Graham loves his babysitter.

She’s my mother-in-law’s best friend. She was at my wedding. She truly adores Graham and it’s obvious he feels the same way.

So it’s all the more frustrating and perplexing that getting him out the door in the mornings these days generally involves a full-blown temper tantrum.

They appear to have become a favorite sport for him. It starts with him turning away, laughing and making silly faces when I first approach with socks and shoes. But giggles and mock protests quickly escalate into full-blown power struggles involving crying, flailing, screaming, kicking and slapping. (On his part, of course, though I have to cop to some occasional screaming of my own).

When Graham is finally wrangled, red-faced and screeching, into his car seat, he’s usually barefoot and without a coat and I am usually close to tears.

Never mind that he generally starts cooing happily from the back seat within minutes, the tone for the day has been set.

And it’s a negative tone, an angry tone: a tone that makes me feel like a failure.

Anyone else feel like they’re losing the battle?

NaBloPoMo - Day 19

Nineteen days in.

This National Blog Posting Month shiz is hard y'all.

It's been a real struggle to post something every day, but it has really forced me to push myself as a writer. I've come up with some stuff this month of which I'm proud. Really proud.

And...I've posted some stuff that isn't likely to get me on the short list for a Pulitzer anytime soon. (No need to link that!)

Give me some sugar readers, bloggers, fellow divas. Any ideas welcome. And, if you're on this crazy NaBloPoMo ride along with me, dish. How are things looking for you on this day 19?