The little guy is sick. Tonsilitis. He can’t even swallow water. All day long yesterday he had 1/2 a banana with a really painful look on his face, 5 spoonfuls of soup, water via a straw and a few sips of freshly-squeezed oj. He even took a 1/2 hour nap in the afternoon while watching Free Willy on Star and I finally got around to ironing the month-long pile of clothes. His fever ranged from 37.7 to 39!! I freaked when I saw the 39. This time around, Panayioti getting sick really bummed me out. Maybe more than it should have. I actually slumped down in my kitchen and just cried, felt totally overwhelmed with taking care of a non-verbal child who’s also got a nasty cold. Of course this means that our toilet training has taken quite a few steps back since he’s too weak to get out of bed and thus has to wear a diaper all day long. Yet Panayioti being sick also means that it’s really quiet at home. He’s too weak to even yell/shriek and do his jungle man sounds. Actually I know when his fever goes down that’s when he’ll do a little run from one end of the house to the other and climb our sofa cushions. Anyway, a cold is just a cold and he’ll get better soon I know. I shouldn’t be so melodramatic. Only one other thing kept me from sleeping a good night’s sleep last night and that was a comment by the girl who came over to cut Kosta’s hair. We had arranged this visit way before Panayioti got sick and we just made a judgment call not to cancel since she’d be in and out in under half an hour. Our hairstylist, who does home visits. As she was finishing up she asked me how old Panayioti is. When I answered that he’ll be 5 in July she said something that just . um . made my knees go weak and you know how sometimes you hear something but then seem to go deaf right after from the shock? Now this is a girl right, unmarried, no kids, basically no clue. She said very matter of factly, that’s what surpised me the most, that since he’s not talking by now he’s not going to talk . . . ever!! I went deaf, numb, sad. How could someone say something like that? I guess people will never cease to amaze me, the cruel and insensitive comments they make. The way someone just says something to you without realizing how hurtful their comments may be. Why am I always thinking about the other person’s feelings before I talk to friends, family, anyone and other people don’t? Why am I always reminded of the sisters at St. Clare’s engraining into our heads that if you don’t have anything nice to say then don’t say anything at all. Why am I always smiling at the face of someone clearly out to hurt me, for whatever reason. Now I don’t know if she meant to hurt me, she did actually apologize when she realized how tense I got, and hurt. I was on the verge of tears, and it showed. I don’t want to sound like I live in a fantasy world. I know my son doesn’t talk. I may respond to his grunts but I know he didn’t just answer my question. I’m not a lunatic. I also know there’s a 25% chance, maybe higher, that he’ll never talk, again. Because he was talking, then regressed. That’s what keeps me hopeful that he’ll find his voice again. And if he doesn’t, he doesn’t. I don’t need a 20-something ‘girl’ to give me an evaluation of my son, to play expert. I’ve shelled out plenty of money on experts and no one has told me for sure 100% that Panayioti will or will not talk. Well, Ms. Levi, his music therapist, said he’ll definitely talk but it’s been over a year and nothing. I just had a ‘say what’ weekend.