Monday, December 9, 2013
I have a bit of a scary story for you.
For a couple years now my son has been telling me that our house is haunted. I like to watch TV shows like, Paranormal Witness, Dead Files, Long Island Medium and others like that and my son sometimes likes to as well. So I just chalked it all up to him watching too much TV (and combined with his autism there's a little more drama added to this situation.). I tell him, to stop being dramatic and I give him logical reasons for all his 'complaints'.
For example, he said his door (which has a hook in eye lock) keeps coming unlocked by itself in the middle of the night. My response is that is he either just forgot to lock it or that a truck went by or something. (Our house is not in the best shape the ground it's on is not very stable at the moment. So when trucks go by the entire house shakes. We also live down the street from the Air Force Base and are directly under the take off strip.) He rolls his eyes and tells me he KNOWS he locked it and he actually heard the lock jingle when it came undone in the night. *Throws hands in the air* What can I say?
He tells me the door opens and closes by itself in the night. I never believed that because my house is built in such a way that you actually have to walk into my room to get to his. So his bedroom door is in my bedroom. I wake up to a pin drop. So there is no way his door would open without me knowing it. Its an old creaky house. The doors squeak so bad I have to grease them monthly.
He's also told me that his alarm clock has changed time by itself and sometimes he comes home from school to find it blinking. Obviously, common sense says it was a slight power outage or issue. Happens all the time.
So these are the kinds of things he's been 'complaining' about. I just shake my head and tell him to calm down get real.
Last night, I went to bed. Everything was as usual. No trauma during the day, no crazy TV shows before bed. None of that. I was tired and we had to get up at 5:30am so I went to bed around 10:30pm. At about 3:00am I woke to the sound of my son's bedroom door opening. I looked over at his door expecting him to come out to use the bathroom.........he never came out. I sat up in bed and stared at the door. Nothing. I decided to go see if he was okay. I got up and went into the room. He was sound asleep in bed. I looked around his room.............nothing. Stumped, I stood there staring at the door. He usually locks it when he goes to bed. (I don't know why.)
Seeing nothing, I decided to use the bathroom and go back to bed. When I got back upstairs and headed back into bed I realized that the fan (which I use to dull the little noises in the night, otherwise I'll never sleep) was facing his bedroom door and was on high. "Well, that must be it!" I said trying desperately to shake the heebie jeebies that were digging into my gut.
I tried to go back to bed, pulled the blankets up over my head and closed my eyes. I took a deep breath and tried to think happy thoughts. Suddenly, I was shaken out of my slumber by bumping noises coming from downstairs. I sat up in bed and listened sharply. One bump.......then two more......a few minutes later, another bump. I got up, went downstairs shaking in my jammies.............but there was nothing.
Getting annoyed and feeling the fear building, I grumbled and headed back up the stairs looking over my shoulder repeatedly. I went back into my room and got back under the blankets. Now my ears were perked, my mind was buzzing and the fear had created a trembling deep inside me.
A little time goes by, my eyes drift shut and I slowly begin to relax. Suddenly, at about 3:37am a very loud rumbling noise came from outside and was shaking the house terribly! I jumped up and ran to the window to see a plow from the city. Apparently, they decided that a dusting of snow required immediate removal.
Now pissed that I was still up and now WIDE awake, I ground my teeth and got back into bed, jamming my legs under the damn blankets and yanking them back up over me. I closed my eyes again and tried desperately to go to sleep. About a half hour went by and I was just starting to drift off, out of the blue, I heard a strange and eerie hissing sound immediately followed by a tiny growl. My heart nearly beat right out of my chest. I jumped up knocking the blankets to the floor. My chest heaved as I couldn't seem to get my breath back. I looked all around the room and back towards my son's room who's door was still open. There was nothing there.
After a long while I decided I was either going nuts or I was calling an Exorcist first thing in the morning.
I finally got to sleep, don't ask me how. But very shortly after that, my alarm went off. It was time to get up.
I got up with a grunt and trudged downstairs to make my coffee. Feeling the pinch of the nights trauma I sipped my coffee rubbing my bloodshot eyes when my son came in.
"Mom, you're never going to believe what happened last night." he says with a look of fear on his face. Thinking to myself, "Oh god, he's gonna say he saw a ghost and we're gonna have to freakin MOVE!" But kept my cool and pretended to be completely unphased.
"What happened?" I asked sipping my coffee, watching the news.
"At about 3:00am I had the worst nightmare!" he began.
I nearly shit my pants. Oh god.......something creepy did happen!
"Yeah?" I answered, cool as a cucumber.
"Well, it scared the crap outta me so I got up and opened my bedroom door cuz I was scared. (He proceeded to tell me the dream)...Then I went back to bed."
I nearly choked on my coffee. "You did?? You opened your door and went back to sleep at 3:00am??" I asked no longer able to keep my cool.
"Yeah." he said now getting his breakfast ready. "And by the way, you really need to get rid of that automatic air freshener in your room. It makes a creepy sound and freaks me out when it goes off at night." he finished then ate breakfast.
I later learned that the bumping noises were from my neighbor who works night shift and parks right next to my house. He was opening and closing his car doors.
I hate myself. LOL!!
Well, the boys been trying to find a way to scare me for years. After hundreds of unsuccessful attempts he finally got me. It may have been unintentional, but he gets the points for this one. LOL!!!
Thursday, December 5, 2013
In case you didn't know this, I don't really like holidays. Quite frankly, I feel like holidays are nothing more than financial and emotional drains. I've spent my whole life draining those two things. So leave me alone when I say, "Ba-humbug!"
So the tree, wreaths, garland and all that other crap got drug up from the basement. Shortly after came all the sneezing and nose blowing. Yup, my basement is NOT as clean as I thought it was. I had to clean my living room at least 6 times. And my cat destroyed 4 more ornaments than last year. AWESOME. To make matters worse, when I put all the lights on the tree, I did it backwards and had to redo the whole thing. *sighs*
A day or so goes by and my son decides he's gonna be an electrician......except an electrician would know how to plug the tree lights in. Do ya think my son took 2 seconds to find the plug hanging at the bottom of the tree and plug it into the extension cord RIGHT NEXT TO IT??? Nope........didn't bother at all. Instead, he decides that he's going to take the extension cord, disconnect 2 sets of lights on the tree and try to plug them both into the extension cord. Only half the tree lit up. When I noticed this, I asked what he did. He said he couldn't figure out how to turn the lights on, so he messed with the lights till he got it. (He's gonna be 13 in a week.) I was NOT impressed.
So to be a good mom and teach the boy a lesson, I say, "Fix it. You messed it up, you fix it. Undo what you did and put it back the way you found it." 4 hours later, he was crying and I lost a patch of hair on the back of my head. *growls*
Eventually, I got mad and yelled at him. "Forget it! I don't know WHY you messed with it in the first place! Now I have to fix your mess, AGAIN!" Then I sent him to bed. (A whole 15 minutes early.....woohoo....*twirls finger in the air*....)
The next morning we got up (at 5:30am while its still dark out) and I get my coffee and sit down while the boy gets ready for school. Suddenly, the boy bursts out of the bathroom and says, "Mom! Look at my face! I can't go to school like this!"
All groggy, I squinted my eyes and tried to see what he was talking about, but it was too dark. So I took him to the bathroom where the light was brighter and I got a better look. His face was covered with tiny red spots! All over his face, neck, shoulders and ears. It was so odd looking. My first thought and words were, "How the hell did you get a hickey on your whole head? Did the Sandman take a plunger to your face?" He didn't think it was funny. "Mom! How am I going to go to school like this??" He panicked, as usual.
I wondered if it was something like the measles. He had the chicken pox twice and he was vaccinated so I guess anythings possible. So, I did what any mom would do, I called the DR and got him in that morning. On the drive there, my son begins his routine 'panic' and asks me his routine 'panic mode questions', "Are they gonna give me a shot?? Are they, mom?? Are they gonna stick me?? Are they, mom??" (This happens every single time. One time I made him an appointment and he asked, I simply didn't answer him and he pinched himself for a week straight to prepare himself for the inevitable poke that he didn't actually get. It was quite the show.) You'd think these types of fears start to fade over time.......nope, not with MY boy. In fact, I'm pretty sure it got worse.
It started badly right off the bat. The nurse tried to take his vitals but his blood pressure was reading so high they had to try it twice with the machine then 2 more times manually. It was absolutely high. Then the DR comes in takes one look and says, "Oh wow. This looks like Petechia. Then she looks in his eyes and says, "Yup, it does. How odd." She checks him all over and asks a battery of questions all that led to nothing. She turned to me and says, "Well, it could either be Petechia or it could be some sort of side affect from a virus he may have. So to be safe I'd like to get some blood work on him."
All the color dropped out of my son's face like water falling off a cliff. He turned a shade of white I haven't seen without bleach, so quickly, I actually got nervous. And I don't get nervous. I'm always in control. The DR ran to his side and told him to lay down but he was in full fledged panic mode at that point. "WHAT??" he yelled. "BLOOD WORK??" he yelled. Then he began to hyperventilate and burst into tears. The DR listened to his heart, gave me a scary look and ran out of the room. While she was gone, I took that moment to calm the boy down. He got a TINY bit of color back when the DR came back in with smelling salts. "You okay, now?" she asked him. Still crying he answered honestly, "No!"
The DR handed me the blood work order and whispered, "I hope he makes it." Then she left. I scooped up the boy and slowly walked him down the 6.5 flights of stairs (last time I went there I got stuck in the elevator). So like his blood pressure wasn't high enough, now we're doing a workout!
Anyway, he BARELY made it through the blood draw. It took a long while, a seriously patient nurse, lots of orange juice, a few chains, some leather straps, a stick to bite down on and a few shots of whiskey, but it got done.
Once that was over, I realized my son's glasses were missing. Turned out he left them in the DR office. So, with a sheet white young man who's heart rate and blood pressure is through the roof, we ventured back up those 6.5 flights of stairs, got the glasses, then went back down and left.
Before leaving the DR told me that the test only takes 3 hours so she would call me later. Being a mom with a child who already has disabilities, I began to get nervous. So I looked up Petechia and was not okay with what I found. It's mostly found (apparently) in people with things like cancer or Leukemia, immune disorders. I bit my nails as it took far longer than 3 hours for the phone to ring. Finally, after hours of panic from both of us, she called and said all was normal.
My son in passing (while we were at the DR office that day) mentioned that he was upset the night before and to let it out he held his breath. The DR, who was now on the phone said, "You know how he said he held his breath cuz he was mad last night?" I said yeah. She said, "Well, I've never actually seen it happen before but if he did it really hard, for a long enough time, he COULD have popped all the blood vessels in his head. We'll find out when you bring him in tomorrow."
At that we got off the phone and I looked at my son and said, "If all this is happening just because you had a temper tantrum, I may actually kill you." He laughed. *sighs*
Long story short, we went back to the DR's office today and since the boy's face looks MUCH better today, she burst out laughing.
"That was it, wasn't it? He imploded?" I asked shaking my head.
"Yup!" she said looking him over thoroughly. The DR laughed hysterically. "I've never actually seen that before!" she laughed. "Don't do that again!" she said to my son.
"I promise, I will NEVER do that again!" he said. And we were on our way.
If you ever for a moment think my life is easy.........just, slap yourself........right across the face. Twice if need be. This drama may actually kill me.