My Child on Genotropin

Lots of nervousness around here. I have caught Natasha crying in her room or off in private places a few times. She’s also been an on-and-off raging bitch, about which I am cutting her a little slack because (alas) that is often how I express my own anxiety so, while not pleasant, I can relate. Plus we’re all pretty beat from a few extra late nights thanks to Passover seders on Saturday and Sunday.

Tomorrow is the day that will change our lives. Let’s hope for the better.

Our starter kit arrived today, complete with needles, alcohol swab, “pen,” how-to DVD, refrigerator-safe storage case and a random backpack apparantely included to make the kid feel like all of this is going to be fun, fun, fun. It’s not working in our house.

Natasha is aware of what is going on, aware that the shots are going to begin sometimes next week, and is for the time being living in denial. I know she doesn’t want to watch the DVD, because the video is available online and she didn’t want to see it there. I haven’t pressed the backpack on her yet.

Put in a call to the insurance to let them know we got the starter kit, and now await a call from our nurse named Miles. And then we’re off…

I spent a lot of time doing yard work today and dealing with my ego. Last night I surfed the internet more extensively than before– and I thought I’d done a pretty extensive search– and finally found some message boards for parents of children on Genotropin.
 
Wow. Parents talking about things like six month old children who aren’t growing at all but are too young for treatment. Lots of scary stuff. Made me so very grateful that our issue is, in the realm of issues, so very, very small (ha ha. Get it? Small? Growth hormone? )
I realized that it is kind of absurd, my rushing to start a blog as if no one has ever gone through this before. I imagine there are some out there. But damn, they are hard to find.

So here it is: the blog of the experiences of a family whose older daughter is in a not terribly dire situation which is nonetheless serious enough to merit injected hormone treatment.

Tomorrow the starter pack is slated to arrive, at which point I call back insurance to go over a checklist. Theirs, not mine.