tear – thetruesuperman

The Real Superman Part XX

By Jeff King

It has been awhile since I have written. I was bogged down working at summer school and studying my last two college classes of the last semester. I just recently finished both. There has been a few things that have taken place since I last wrote The Real Superman. Dylan was scheduled to have the battery in his VNS changed today, which is 8/5/2015. It never happened, because, the surgeon’s secretary would call every few days to move the surgery further. It was originally scheduled for 7:00 AM, but she called us yesterday after calling us two previous time to reschedule and make it later. Now they wanted to schedule it for 2:00 PM, which is actually insane, because, Dylan wouldn’t have been able to eat anything after 12:00 AM this morning. That means he would have to go about 18 hours before he would be able to eat anything. I guess when you’re second class people these surgeons can reschedule you anytime they feel like it. Dylan being possibly two years old mentally, would be very angry if he was unable to eat for that long, and besides, it isn’t good for his health to go for that long. I am considering on launching a complaint against this surgeon, because, it is ridiculous to expect a child that is like Dylan to go that long without anything to eat.

I truly have a problem with the way people treat children with special needs. Don’t get me wrong, it isn’t everyone that does it, but when you’re a parent of a child that has special needs, you notice all the stares and whispers. You notice how some people treat you differently. Just as I was explaining. If we were people that had top of the line health insurance and not Medicaid for Dylan, but perhaps, Blue Cross and Blue Shield; or if we were paying cash, I can bet money that this doctor wouldn’t have continued to put Dylan’s surgery off! It just peeves me! Goddamnit, we are not second class citizens. We matter too! These children matter! We ended up canceling it and rescheduling it for next Thursday. The Secretary told us that if we didn’t reschedule it for next week then we would have to wait until October before we could reschedule it, because the surgeon was going on vacation. Must be real nice? Anyhow, I guess we should be use to this sort of thing by now, since these are the things we have had to deal with since Dylan has been little.

I have written before about how people would say things, for example the woman at the mall who accused Dylan of pushing her kid off the Humpty Dumpty Sliding board. Then there was the woman who blocked the wheelchair access aisle so we couldn’t get Dylan out of the store in his wheelchair. The woman that said that I wasn’t even man enough to make a normal child. Then we went to the MVA to aquire a special parking permit in front of my house, so we can have parking right out in front. We have fought people over this issue. On occasion we have some assclown that decides to park there, but unbeknown to them it is a 500.00 fine to park there. I have actually had words with several neighbors because they parked there. I had one neighbor across from me had someone visiting from Florida parked there. We pull up it is pouring down raining and someone is parked in our spot. I didn’t know who it was. I layed on my horn, hoping someone would come out to investigate and perhaps know who the vehicle belonged to, but to no avail, so I called the police and the officer comes to write a ticket for the vehicle. The lady across the street from me pulls up and ask me what was the problem, I told her that someone parked in my spot. She then says to me, “Do you want me to go get him and make him move?” I replied that I had already called the police. The officer hadn’t arrived as of yet, but she then replies, “Well that is unneccesary!” I did’t know she knew this person, but she began to cuss me out like it was my fault that this ass hat parked in my spot! My daughter began to yell at her, and began to threaten her. That is when the clown that had parked in my spot finally came out of her house and walked across the street. He asked me what was the problem and I explained that I have a permit for the parking space and that it is a 500.00 fine to park there. He said he didn’t even see the two great big signs that read “PERMIT PARKING ONLY”, which also has a number that is affixed to my driver’s side windshield. I replied, “Can you read?” Which he took offense with me. That is when the police officer pulled up. I explained to the officer what transpired. I told the officer if he moves I am not worried about if he gives him a ticket. I just want my parking space so I could get Dylan out of the car and into the house. This is the kind of issues we have had to deal with. One time some Jack hole had parked there and I called the police. The officer that came actually asked me what I expected him to do about it. I informed him that they usually write a ticket for the violators. He told me that he wasn’t comfortable doing that and to park somewhere else. I promptly took his name and badge number and told him that I was calling for another officer. He was a real smart ass. He said, “Go right ahead, they will just send me back and I am not writing a ticket, I don’t have to.” Which really pissed me off. The woman who parked there came walking down the street and the officer asked if the car was hers and she said yes. He said, well you can’t park here. She said “Oh I am sorry, I didn’t know that?” She got in and drove off. Then the officer says to me, “all taken care of” Like he did something. I quickly replied, “Yes, but no thanks to you.” I will be in touch with your supervisor.” I called his supervisor the next day and was assured that I wouldn’t have another issue with an officer writing a ticket, because that is his job.

These are the things we have to deal with. I also explained the stares people give to Dylan. Like he is some kind of freak. He yells out, because he cannot speak. We expect children to stare, but then we have grown ass people rudely stare. We hear them whisper and occasionally laugh. One time, me, Dylan, Terri and my mom was in Wal-Mart and I was walking ahead of them. Terri was pushing Dylan in his chair and Dylan began to scream, it is an impulsive sensory thing that he does. Most people pay no mind to him, because most people no better, but as they’re walking along, Dylan is screaming. I was up ahead, because I was checking on something. Dylan let out an ear piercing squeal there was a lady directly in front of me she looked up and said, “Geese, shut that kid up!” I said, “Excuse me?” and she laughed, “I said, shut that kid up!” I was angry and I yelled at the woman, “What in the hell is wrong with you lady? That’s my child you’re talking about and he is Autistic!” She turned horribly red, “Oh I am so sorry, I didn’t know? I work with kids like him.” She replied. “I sure hope the hell not!” I said furiously “Because I sure feel sorry for them! You intensive asshole!” I added. By then Terri had overheard what was going on and she immediately reamed the woman out as well. Suddenly my 65 year old mother came careening down the aisle with a cart, “What did that bitch say about my grandson!” she yelled. I immediately calmed her down we got what we came to get and quickly left the store without further incident.

These are the things that saddens me. I often wonder is how Dylan will be treated when we’re no longer around and sometimes I feel hopeless; however, there remains a glimmer of hope. We were out at a mall yesterday and me and Dylan sat on a bench waiting for Terri to finish in Torrid. This little boy escaped from his mother and came running over to wear we were sitting. I was on the bench, but Dylan was in his wheelchair. The little boy bean to rub Dylan’s hand and say hi. His mom came over and said, “Did you tell the little boy hi?” they both smiled at us the young woman said hi to me and asked me how I was doing? I told her good thanks. She smiled and walked away. It is these type of things that gives me hope. We have people hating one another because of race issues. We have people hating people because of religion and politics. It seems as if the world is seriously going to hell and we are all on a one way dead end road towards doomsday, but there is yet hope. The little boy that came up to Dylan was probably about three-years old and an African American. He didn’t notice Dylan’s skin color, or his disability, he noticed that Dylan was a kid, just like him. That is truly love and that’s the kind of love that produces hope. (To be continued.)

Ode to Superman

This is a poem I am working on. I haven’t finished yet. I would actually like some feedback on it. It’s titled Ode to Superman

Ode to Superman

I watched him grow from a small child to struggle through so many things. So unlike any other boy. To wrestle just to make it through another day. He was born under a dark cloud, but his smile would ignite the sun and though his life is filled with shadows he will not cry one single tear.

The war he fights is his alone. He battles hard without a fear. With no concern with what tomorrow holds. He stays strong and carries on.

Carry on little Superman. On wings of hope you fly on high. No kryptonite can hold you down. Spread your wings my hero fly.

The Real Superman Part XVI

By Jeff King

For a while Dylan did improve. He wasn’t having a lot of seizures and whenever he had them they were quick and he recovered pretty quickly, as if nothing even happened. We were able to successfully get him to where his helmet, but it was a hell of a fight to get him to do it. Every time we would put it on him, he would rip it off and throw it across the room. Most of the time he would smile about it. He knew what he was doing. In the end our perseverance won out and Dylan still wears a helmet today, but, man the struggle was real!

One early September day in 2014; right before school; Terri had just given Dylan a bath when a very freak accident occurred. Terri had a whole collection of brass and ceramic unicorns that she had collected since she was a child. Terri had just finished bathing him and put his helmet on. She was preparing to get him dressed. He had been running around the room like a Wildman, which by the way was normal for him when all of a sudden it happened. Dylan had an absence seizure and fell backwards hitting the shelf that housed all of Terri’s fine collectable unicorns. She called for me I was downstairs getting ready for work and I hear her scream my name, so I go flying up the stairs like a bat out of hell. There was blood everywhere. We lifted Dylan up off the floor and sure enough he was bleeding, but we weren’t sure from where. I quickly removed his helmet to examine him. That’s when we noticed that he had a small puncture wound in the back of his head, “But how?” we asked ourselves. He had his helmet on. Terri looked over at the shelf to examine the damage when she noticed a particular ceramic unicorn which was intact all except for the fact it was missing its horn. I picked up Dylan’s helmet off of the floor to reexamine it. It was then that I found the unicorns horn, it was wedged in a small hole that was created when Dylan fell on it. We cleaned him up and the mess and he stayed home from school that day.

Dylan has always found a way of destroying things; sometimes they were accident, while other times he would purposely destroy things. Here is a list of things that he has destroyed: Our semi new flat screen HD TV that we only had for a year. We had just finished paying the credit card off that we used to purchase it with. Dylan had an absence seizure and fell head first into it. We had to borrow a small TV from my sister-in-law until we were able to buy a new one. He has broken 4 sets of lamps, by just pushing them off the end tables. It takes him several times of knocking them off, but eventually he is successful. We always try to correct him, but he just doesn’t seem to understand. He has torn up several sets of living room and dining room furniture as well. He just ripped the fabric off one of our sets of living room furniture. We bought nice leather furniture and he was good with it. He never once tried to tear that set up, but over the years from wear and tear it eventually wore out, so we waited until tax time 2014 and bought this furniture with cash. It cost us about 1300 dollars. It wasn’t made very well and for some reason Dylan decided that he wanted to tear it up. It was fake leather and Dylan had it destroyed in less than 4 months. We just bought another leather set on credit and he seems just fine with it. We purchased a dining room set a few years ago. The table was very nicely made and we still have it today, but we have went through three sets of chairs. Dylan would go out in the dining room and knock the chairs over. He reminds me of the Tasmanian Devil from the Warner Brothers cartoons. He has destroyed pictures, which some he has stood on the furniture and ripped them off the walls. He ripped Terri’s dream catchers up. We caught him several times with the feathers still in his mouth. Like a cat that just ate the canary found with the evidence still in his mouth. It sounds funny, but at the time that he is doing these things, we don’t find it very funny. We have tried to stop him several times, but he is like a tornado going through a room, or a bull in a china shop. No matter how many times we stop him and sit him down and tell him no, he will wait until an opportunity arises and he will go tear things up.

He has torn up our plants several times. Just recently he was playing in his toy box and I was watching TV when he came out into the living room and his face and hands were covered in dirt. He had been into Terri’s plants. I had to clean him up as well as the mess he left for me. He came in and looked at me to show me how proud he was of himself. He has ripped up my other children’s homework, my college papers. My niece gave him the name the Ripper, because when we were visiting them one day he had gotten into her room and ripped up one of her books. She came running into the living room crying “Dylan is tearing my book up! He is the ripper!”

Whenever we have told people about this they usually tell us things like, “Buy a gate to keep him out of places.” We actually have done that we have several gates put in place; one at the bottom of the stairs so Dylan cannot go up the stairs for fear that he will have a seizure and fall down them and the other blocks him from the kitchen, so he can’t get into the kitchen to pull the stove over on himself; which he has actually done several times before we got the gate. The gate guarding the kitchen has been compromised several times. Dylan has fell on it shattering it twice, both times Terri has had to glue it back together, because the gate was specially ordered on line and we can’t find any like it at any of the stores. (To be continued.)