Sunday, November 4, 2012

A brief interruption

Well, I guess it's decided, then. Having missed posting here yesterday, I'm obviously NOT doing NaBloPoMo. That takes some of the pressure off.

I couldn't post yesterday because we were busy doing this:

At C's request, we drove down to San Antonio yesterday to watch his high school band compete in a big huge giant (61 bands, yo) marching contest at the Alamodome. They did amazing and ended up placing 8th.

And I didn't cry. Not like I did when I first saw this year's marching show on Parents Night back in August, with the hole in the sousaphone line where C was supposed to be. He was in uniform that night but not on the field. Instead he was off on the sidelines, under the bleachers, up in the stands, battling an anxiety attack and trying to stay away from people who were eating.

I cried a little bit last Friday, too, when the band marched into the stadium before the homecoming game (the only game I've attended this season), and there were all the sousaphones in back of the parade block like always, only C wasn't there. (He was off having a fun adventure with a friend that night, which was a very good/happy thing, but still.)

I tell myself I shouldn't be any more upset about C not being able to do marching band this year than he is, himself, but I can't help it. He had to overcome so much to even do marching band in the first place -- sensory processing difficulties, motor planning difficulties, a paralyzing fear of flying insects. And he did. He overcame all of that. And then after a brief taste of success, anxiety stole band away from him earlier this year. I know how hard he has worked, and how good band has been for him, and how much joy it's brought him, and to see all of that taken away, well. As his mother, sometimes it just doubles me over.

But hey, I didn't mean for this to be a maudlin update, so here are some good things:

1. C is doing quite well at his current dose of medication.
2. After a shaky start when we first arrived at the Alamodome, with all the people and food and chaos, C ended up having an absolute blast watching all the bands and hanging out with friends.
3. He is looking forward to marching again next year. And we really think he will be able to do that.

I'm hopeful that eventually he'll get back everything he's lost. And then this year will be just a memory. A tiny, faded scar.


  1. The whole marching band thing is absolutely intoxicating to me. We have nothing like it in Aus and it is one of the few American traditions I would be more than willing to take hold here (along with the idea of Thanksgiving (as in more excuse to eat to excess and hang with people you love) and as opposed to Halloween, the health and education systems). OH, a gap where C would have been would have had me a blathering snotty mess. But this I know, anxiety is a bitch but with each attack you get to see the signs and while not always able to stave it can recover from it more effectively and stronger. It will be a tiny faded scar, it will.

  2. What strength lies in all this. So proud that you, the fam, and C are trouping along.


  3. Baby steps and one foot in front of the other, what else can we do. Always happy to read he's doing better and better.