He’s Here

On September 2, 2014, at 12:43am, we welcomed our new baby Desmond to the world. He measured 19″ and 7 lbs. 1oz. He was born without a single push on my part!

We are madly in love. Jack met him on his first day of life and said, “This is one of the happiest times of my life!”

Our dog Lambert is channeling Lassie and thinks he should come to Dez’s rescue at the the littlest cry. Lambert even leads David to me when Desmond needs to nurse. We keep trying to tell the dog that we have it covered but he clearly doesn’t think we’re very good at this baby thing.

I’m hoping to get the birth story up soon! Stay tuned!

So Many Experts, So Few Explanations

We’ve seen quite a few doctors over the last week to address Jack’s recent paralysis incident and an increase in headaches that don’t want to go away. Two pediatrician visits, one neurology visit, and lots of phone calls have occured. We have one more appointment Friday with the eye doctor just to make sure things are okay.

None of the doctors had answers for us. No one knows what caused the paralysis and the headaches seem to be tension headaches. Everything looks benign and so we will do nothing for now and hope it goes away (and the paralysis incident doesn’t recur). Perhaps being out of school will help.

Jack’s pediatrician has been great during all of this. He is really good at following up on what is going on with Jack even when we don’t reach out to him directly (usually we call the oncology clinic because we tend to assume whatever is happening is probably due to chemo). He took me aside after the appointment yesterday to talk with me privately, away from Jack. He wanted to know how I was doing and let me know that that we could come to him anytime – that he would figure out what is going on so that we don’t have to. He even went so far as to say he’d noticed that the oncology clinic seems to feel that I’m a worry wart since the things I report that are happening seem to differ from what his dad’s household reports. He doesn’t seem to share this opinion with them, and understands that kids are unreliable when reporting illness – and this is especially true with Jack.

To give an example, if I reported to the docs that “Jack was feeling weak” – it would be because Jack told me that he felt like a chicken filled with whipped cream instead of bones. Jack’s dad would usually not think anything of that kind of statement coming from Jack, other than that Jack is a bit goofy and unique in the way he describes himself. If Jack reports that he got a weird shivery feeling (but he doesn’t feel cold) – I would check his temperature (more often than not he’d have a temp, even if it was slight, or it would be an early sign he was coming down with a cold). Jack’s dad would just assume he was chilly.

I don’t know if this occurs because Jack spends more time with me or just that he tells me more about his feelings or maybe I am some kind of master decipherer! But unfortunately the differences in what is reported between households has the oncologist questioning ME instead of his dad. And I guess maybe they prefer to hear that Jack is doing fine on chemo.

This is partly why David is taking Jack to more appointments these days – to show that it’s not just me (and also to spare me the stress of dealing with these jerks). But it seems that a lot of the damage has been done in the oncology office’s eyes, so we just deal.

In any case, the talk with the pediatrician yesterday was both reassuring (that we have SOMEONE who understands what is going on and who will take the lead on monitoring Jack’s care from a holistic perspective) and frustrating. It’s pretty upsetting to feel that I am not being respected by my son’s oncologist, someone I have to rely on to cure and keep my son alive, and it seems the pregnancy hormones have me a bit more sensitive when it comes to feeling judged negatively as a parent. I’m having a hard time shaking it now that I’ve been reminded.

David and I avoided asking Jack how he was feeling this morning and just sent him off to school, fingers crossed that he would last the day. And it seems he has. There are only 7 more days of school left until summer break, so hopefully we can make it through and we will all get a break from the grind.

Random Notes – aka CliffsBlog

After today, Jack has three lumbar punctures left before the end of treatment (March 2015). That makes me happy. I’m trying to focus on that and not the fact that yesterday, I noticed Jack has tiny scars on his lower back from all the lumbar punctures over the last couple of years.

I’m 24 weeks pregnant and I’ve gained 3 lbs total. I don’t know what to think about that! (When I was pregnant with Jack, I’d gained 20 lbs by this point.) The baby is clearly growing, though, so my doctor says it’s fine.

We haven’t decided on a name for the baby yet. I am (irrationally) worried this baby will never have a name. It’s not that there are a lack of names out there but nothing seems to be “the one.” It feels weird to not know what this baby’s name will be.

Make-a-Wish is coming out to our house on May 22nd to start the interior design phase of Jack’s room makeover! Yay!!!

So far, Jack is physically doing okay with the increase to his chemotherapy dose. Mentally, things aren’t so great and his anxiety has ramped up along with homework (math) difficulties. We found out at his appointment today that the chemotherapy dose is being increased yet again (that makes increases 3 weeks in a row) because he grew a bit since he was last in. And his ANC came back SUPER high, which really made me nervous at first but the nurse case manager said that it’s likely just a sign that he has finally gotten over whatever hit him so hard last August. So yay for that!

We are very much looking forward to the end of the school year in FIVE WEEKS.

Jack is wearing new shoes! He actually has two new pairs! He hasn’t put those freaking fur-lined boots on in over a week. Instead he’s trading off between Crocs and a pair of New Balance sandals. He wears them both with socks, but hey! I’ll take it!!!

This weekend we’re going to Camp Okizu (a free camp for families dealing with cancer). That will be a nice break for us and allow us some time to connect with other families in the cancer community. We’ve heard a lot about how people meet other families at the hospital/clinic but that hasn’t been the case for us. Generally the patients don’t mingle at Kaiser. We’re rarely in the waiting room with other families and the clinic booths are separated by curtains. So anyway, it’s nice to be able to chat with other families at camp who’re going through the same things as us.

Lastly, I had a wonderful Mother’s Day. David brought me fresh Starbucks, a donut, and made me breakfast in bed. He pulled some poppies from our backyard and put them in a vase for me, as well. I got to nap a bunch and then I took Jack to Build-a-Bear. We finished the day off by having Japanese delivery for dinner and watching Game of Thrones. I am cherishing the relaxing day because next year will likely be more chaotic with the baby in the house!

Over Halfway There

I’m in my 22nd week of pregnancy now. We’re over halfway there! We had the baby’s anatomy scan about two weeks ago and it went pretty well. The baby was not being all that cooperative – as I had thought, the kid prefers to tuck himself deep into my pelvis, hence the hip and leg pain I’ve been having for a while now. It took some work on the ultrasound tech’s part to find out the gender because our baby’s little pretzel legs kept getting in the way, but about halfway through we saw undeniable evidence that this one is a boy.

Jack totally called it a few days prior when he said, “I want it to be a girl, but I think it will be a boy.”

I had mixed feelings upon learning the gender, to be honest. I love having a boy already and it seems like boys are a bit easier to raise (with lower-pitched voices). At the same time, my boy is very attached to me and I know girls tend to be more attached to their dads – it would be nice to have someone in the house not obsessed with me (we also have three animals that are males and all gravitate to me)! There are no guarantees, of course. Who knows, maybe this kid will think I’m boring as hell.

Anyway, I’ve gotten used to the idea of having another boy now and all is well on that front.

So, with that, we’ve stopped disagreeing about girl names and turned our focus to boys names. We have two picked out that are tied for first place but I keep hearing one of them pop up all over the place so I don’t know that we’ll go with it. I can’t quite cross it off the list, though.

Last night I dreamed about the baby and saw his face. Unfortunately that didn’t help sway my opinion of either name. Bah! (Maybe I should put the baby’s name up to the a vote – ha!) Hopefully it will all become clear when the little dude joins us in the outside world.

David finally felt the baby move over the weekend! He’s been moving around for weeks but the kicks were inconsistent and I think maybe the placenta is toward my back or something. The kid is getting stronger, though, and loves to be active right at bedtime. Maybe that’s why I continue to suffer from fatigue, headaches, and SERIOUS pregnancy brain!

Because of the fatigue, headaches, pregnancy brain, and overall less patience with the world around me, I’m in hibernation mode. I’ve been making dumb mistakes and forgetting a lot of things, which is super frustrating to me. I’m an administrative assistant, so the fact that I can’t trust myself and must triple-check my work is screwing with my self-esteem! But at least I’m flighty enough to only worry about it for five minutes at a time…

That’s the latest on this pregnancy business. Any questions?

Somewhat Calmer Days

I’m in the second trimester of my pregnancy (at least, I am according to one of the apps on my phone) and things have mellowed out some. Not a lot, but enough that I’m not waking up at 5am having panic attacks and worrying about my ability to parent a second child effectively. Instead I’m waking up at 5am and trying to soothe Jack back to sleep because he’s had a nightmare or three. Or I’m contemplating murdering one of my cats – either the one that likes to scratch every wooden surface in the house or the one that lets out loud, melancholy yowls when he can see the bottom of his food dish.

Pregnancy has made me much less tolerant of my animals’ antics. David has had to tell me to stop trying to give away our pets. And I said fine, but I can’t be held accountable if one (or all) of them doesn’t make it to the end of this pregnancy.

Hormones – they are raging in full force!

Aside from Jack’s nightmares, things with Jack have been a little more manageable as of late. He is enjoying his new adapted PE class, which means, for the first time EVER, he is enjoying physical education at school. We’re being much more lax on homework and watching the clock so that he doesn’t work on homework longer than 20 minutes each night. This helps us all feel less stressed! We bought him a new memory foam mattress and it seems like it’s helping him get out of bed in the morning without the aches and pains (and it’s good for me because my arms were falling asleep when I would lay down with him on his old mattress).

Jack’s been attending therapy for about four weeks now, as well, which started when he began showing signs of depression. He loves going to therapy, which is play-based. He gets to talk about whatever he wants and he’s assured that it’s all private (unless, of course, there is talk of hurting himself or others). He’s had fewer angry outbursts and seems to be more talkative about other things now. Next we’ll have to see if we can do something about those nightmares.

David and I are going in this Friday for our next prenatal appointment and we’re supposed to have another ultrasound done. I’ll be 14 weeks exactly, and the ultrasound tech I spoke with last time I was in said she can usually tell the gender at that time. My fingers are crossed that we’ll be able to find out – baby names are driving me crazy and I hope that knowing the gender will help bring some clarity in that arena. David and I aren’t finding it easy to agree on names – he likes classic American/English names and I generally prefer things that aren’t in the top 100…not to mention that quite a few people I know have either had babies recently or are giving birth this year and some of the names on our list are also being considered by friends.

“You know too many people,” David says.

Jack thinks the baby will be a boy, although the only name suggestion he has offered is for a girl – Ruby. I was impressed by his suggestion, and also a little surprised because he usually names things according to the color they are. Although, now that I think of it, perhaps he is taking inspiration from my own gemstone-inspired name. Huh. (That’s how names get taken off the list sometimes – a thought occurs to one of us like “oh that starts a theme” or “but that reminds me of that crazy person” or “too many celebrity babies have that name.”)

Naming babies is hard…

Anyway, that’s the latest and greatest in our household. And, yeah, feel free to throw some names at us if you think of anything!

Anger Turned Inward

Recently Jack told David that his life was perfect. David looked at him incredulously and asked, “What about the cancer?”

Jack replied, “Cancer doesn’t bother me much.”

Yeah…okay.

Tuesday morning I found Jack sitting in a corner of his room by himself when he was supposed to be putting his shoes on. He was just sitting there. When I asked him what was going on, he told me he felt weird and sad and didn’t know why.

Are you sad because you don’t feel good?
Are you sad because you miss your dad and brother?
Are you tired and that’s making you sad?
Is there something happening at school to make you sad?

None of those, he said. He just didn’t know. He was sad and teary and had no energy for school.

I pulled him into my lap and cuddled with him. I told him I felt that way sometimes, too. We decided to stay home and snuggle under the covers and watch a movie together. We would have a mental health day.

He went to school on Wednesday, and then Thursday came around. Upon waking, he complained that his back hurt, he was shivery, and he had no energy. We went about our normal morning routine and I hoped he would rally and be able to go to school. But he did not. Instead his stomach and chest started hurting.

I decided to give him some time and then I told him I was going to take him to school but that if he wasn’t feeling better by lunch time, I would pick him up. He buried his head in the couch and started hitting it. He growled. I told him I would let him work it out and get his shoes on while I brushed my teeth. But when I came back, he was throwing things and holding up a screwdriver by his face and pulling on his hair. I told him he wasn’t allowed to hurt himself, and he stomped off to his bedroom and slammed the door behind him.

After a bit he emerged again but was still growling and stomping and throwing things about. So I tried to talk to him.

You seem really upset. I bet you’re mad that you feel sick all the time. You probably hate taking so many pills. And you don’t have any control over those pills.

“The pills feel like poison,” he replied. He had quieted a bit and was listening to me, albeit with a frown in place.

I bet that makes you mad that you have to take medicine and that medicine doesn’t even make you feel good – it just makes you feel worse!

Jack nodded.

Medicine is no fun. And you know what, cancer sucks. I hate cancer. It’s not fair that you have to deal with cancer, Jack. You didn’t do anything to deserve cancer. Cancer is a jerk and it shouldn’t be allowed!

“Yeah, I hate cancer, too! It makes me want to break things!”

Well, you can’t break things, but what about ripping things? I’m sure we have scratch paper you can rip up. Sometimes ripping things up makes me feel better. Oooh, and what if you drew cancer and THEN ripped it up?!

That got some life back into him. We headed to the office and I found some scratch paper and handed it over to him. I then gave him some space.

He drew two pictures, each time coming to find me and show me how he could rip cancer to shreds. He shouted “murder” at the pieces and then stomped on them. A bit of a smile came onto his face after destroying the second drawing. I asked if he would draw one for me to rip up, too. He went right to work and came back with an illustration of a body labeled cancer and a dotted line across its throat. He pointed and said, “This is where you can rip its head off.”

I ripped its head off and then kept on ripping while yelling at it, “I hate you, cancer. How dare you hurt my son! You leave Jack alone! No one wants you here! You suck and we hate you! Don’t ever come back!”

And then I stomped on the little pieces for good measure while a cackle bubbled up in Jack’s throat. I felt so much relief to hear that laugh. My boy was back, if just for a bit. We had broken through the cloud that engulfed him.

He kept drawing and I made a phone call to see if I could move up the initial appointment with the new therapist. Thankfully, a spot had opened up in her schedule for that evening.

I then got a text from Jack’s aunt asking if some time with cousins might cheer Jack up. Thank you thank you thank you, I thought. We ate lunch and headed straight there. His aunt and I drank tea and chatted while Jack and his cousin Isha closeted themselves in the office and drew pictures together.

Later, he put up a fight about leaving and got angry all over again but we headed to the therapist’s office anyway. After an hour with her, he was almost back to his old self. I don’t know the details about their session, but Jack did draw something for the therapist and also said, “I told her about my sad feelings.” He also said he’d love to come back. So, I’ll count that as a good session indeed.

Jack asked to watch an episode of Cupcake Wars with me when we got home. We snuggled up and watched a British-themed episode. Jack kept petting me the whole time and we hugged over and over.

It was a terribly rough day in an already difficult week, but at the end it felt like we’d made progress. Maybe Jack’s grief has moved on from denial and he is now allowing the anger to come out. Maybe next time he talks about cancer, he’ll admit that it sucks instead of pretending that his life is perfect.

Even if he doesn’t, we have one picture leftover from yesterday to mark the occasion. We may have to frame it.

CancersGrave

Getting My Ass Kicked

I’m completely sapped of energy.

I’m nauseous.

I’m dizzy.

I can’t breathe.

I’m having heart palpitations.

My brain is totally on the fritz.

After two years of slogging through Jack’s cancer treatment and enduring an exhaustion that I had thought could never be matched, let alone surpassed, I’m being brought to my knees by a fetus.

Yup, I’m pregnant. And thus far, it’s a pretty brutal pregnancy. The mere act of sweeping up leftover pine needles from our Christmas tree nearly caused me to pass out recently.

What.the.fuck!

I don’t know why it’s different this time around. Perhaps it’s due to my age – it’s been over eight years since I was this pregnant with Jack. Maybe it’s genetics – David is cantankerous and maybe his baby is, too! It could be that I have a lot on my plate already, and caring for Jack while trying to cope with pregnancy symptoms is dealing me an extra walloping. Maybe it’s all of those things combined.

In any case, I didn’t expect pregnancy to be so rough on me. I miscalculated. I wasn’t sick at all while pregnant with Jack – just hungry all the time and a little extra sleepy. My sister’s pregnancies with my niece and nephew were pretty easier on her, as well, so I figured I’d be the same. Alas, no.

When does my life ever go as planned?

Along the same vein – we had planned on waiting to tell Jack until I reached the second trimester but that plan went out the window when he broke out in tears one morning because he felt alone and ignored. I apologize profusely and told him that I was working on building a baby and it’s taking a lot out of me. His whole demeanor changed immediately. He found it a little strange to think of me as pregnant, but he also seemed to understand (probably from going through this with his step-mom) that this baby business is hard work. Since then he’s been rubbing my belly daily and telling me that we’re going to need a lot of stuff “if this baby thing works out.” He has also warned me that sometimes babies are annoying – they smack their lips while eating, for instance.

Jack is amazing. I couldn’t ask for a better sibling for this baby.

David, too, is amazing. He is doing EVERYTHING while I am tucked away in our bed. I have felt horribly guilty the whole time and he’s just like, pshaw, go back to bed and let me take care of my baby mama.

So, if the copious pregnancy symptoms are any indication and this baby thing does, indeed, work out, our new addition is expected August 29th.

Fingers crossed that the whole feeling like death thing doesn’t go on for the next seven months. In the mean time, I’ll be sucking down ginger ale, chewing on ginger candy, and stuffing my face with saltines. Maybe I’ll get to keep my girlish figure longer!

Just Write [108]: In Charge

He walked into the bedroom where I was laying alone in the dark, hiding. A mountain of wadded up tissue was on my nightstand and my phone was in my hand. New tears popped into my already puffy eyes, even though I’d already been crying for hours. How could I still have tears left?

“I know I’ve said this before, but you need to ask for help. You need to tell me what you need me to do.”

“I don’t want to be in charge of everything,” I mumbled. I was completely enveloped in self pity.

“You don’t have to be charge of everything,” he replied.

I thought ‘you’re wrong.’

You need to tell me what to do.

That right there means I’m in charge. I have to know what needs to be done and I have to delegate the things I can’t do.

I never wanted to manage another person. Long ago I recognized that counting on other people to do things in my stead is not something I excel at. My childhood didn’t prepare me for that – it prepared me to take care of things myself. And that continued beyond childhood – I’ve made my career as an administrative assistant – someone else’s right hand. I’m the one people depend on, not the other way around.

Of course, being a parent means I am managing someone, albeit in a different way. I am the ultimate authority in my house about what happens with my son. I chose that role and I accept it.

I am not the best boss, but I fulfill my commitment. I’ve helped my son learn and grow and even thrive (despite his illness and my own shortcomings).

But taking care of a special needs child demands more of me than I ever knew was possible. I am not looking to unload the responsibility or shirk my duty. It’s just that sometimes it is exhausting. Because regardless of how many parents Jack has, I am still in charge.

I am in charge because I know more about him and his medical condition than any of his other parents – by choice. I am in charge because the doctors look to me first for information. I am in charge because I have the job that supplies the insurance. I am in charge because I have primary custody – again, by choice.

I am in charge because, in so many instances, I am the ONLY person Jack lets be in charge of things related to him.

I make his doctor appointments. I sort his pills every week and refill his prescriptions. I call the clinic…over and over. I refresh the test results page and I calculate his ANC. I arrange for childcare or changes to his schedule with his dad and step-mom. I know which foods he eats and which he isn’t into anymore. I know when he’s breathing funny or he is on the brink of a meltdown. I’ve documented so much of his life – on paper and in my mind – and I am the default caregiver because of it.

I could ask for help with all of those things, but taking care of Jack is so ingrained in me that it doesn’t even occur to me to ask for help. Why would I? It’s MY JOB. I’m his mother.

No one can lighten that load – I can delegate every parenting-related task I have, and I will still feel the weight of each responsibility because I am in charge no matter what anyone says.

****

This post was inspired by Heather’s Just Write – an exercise in free writing your ordinary and extraordinary moments.

Learning to Love Being Good Enough

It wasn’t until yesterday that I really started to comprehend just how differently this school year – and my LIFE – has gone compared to what I had thought it would be. My ideas on parenting have been challenged more than ever before but those challenges have led to a much better understanding of my role as a parent – an imperfectly perfect parent.

Jack attended school two days this week, and I felt proud of those two days. Two days at school is more than he’s done in weeks!

Since I’ve been home with him so much, catching up on work in between talking to doctors, running labs, or checking Jack’s temperature and assessing his symptoms, I’ve even cooked dinner a few times.

Me! Cooking! It’s unheard of! I’m proud of that, too.

I’ve essentially been a stay-at-home mom, a role that I never in a million years thought I could swing. I still don’t know that I could ever do it full-time (if, in fact, I could afford to, which I absolutely can’t), but since circumstances have deemed it appropriate for the time being, that is what I’m doing. And I’m doing a pretty good job. Not only that, but contrary to what I’d previously thought, the part where I’m home without much adult interaction isn’t the part that’s driving me crazy (the part where I don’t know what’s happening from one day to the next definitely is).

“You’re doing an amazing job homeschooling Jack,” his teacher told me last night at our parent-teacher conference.

Oh, is that what I’m doing? I hadn’t really thought of it that way. Is that what they call juggling five million things these days?

I honestly haven’t done much at all to “school” him (unless letting him watch Dr. Who counts). I hand him the schoolwork he needs to do (after rejecting half of the assignments as impossible or not important enough to complete given our situation), get him into it by asking weird questions about the content, and we discuss corrections when necessary. He almost never has to make corrections when it comes to language arts. Math takes more work thanks to chemotherapy, but David is great at working with him on that. I’m no teacher! I don’t even know how I know what I do know, so I pretty much fail at explaining the concepts to Jack. Thank goodness I am not parenting him alone and he makes it to school some of the time!

It’s probably clear I don’t have the most optimistic view of how I’m managing the schooling portion of our life (however! I think I’m doing a great job of keeping him alive!), so I was pleasantly surprised to hear at the conference that Jack is doing really well and is on track to meet (or succeed in some cases) all academic standards. At least, based on the thirteen days he’s made it to school this year (he’s been there 36% of the time!). His teacher had no concerns and really just wanted to share her observations and see if there was anything she could do to make things easier on us.

I love her.

We heard that Jack is a strong writer, as well as a fantastic artist. We knew the artistry part but I hadn’t really thought about him as a writer before, although I realized he’s been doing a lot more writing lately. It was nice to see some work that he’d done at school, which includes some pretty awesome story-telling that isn’t all about Dr. Who. (Maybe someday he’ll be a blogger like his mama!)

wanteddoctor

It’s all Doctor all the time at home.

He is conscientious and well-behaved. He tries hard and when he’s at school, no one can tell anything is going on with him health-wise. He has plenty of friends in addition to the ONE he’s told us about. In fact, when he is late to class, if he can’t quickly figure out where he needs to be, his classmates are totally on top of getting him oriented.

YAY!

Seriously, that was SUCH a relief to hear. I’ve been worried about school but have had so little capacity to do more than what I’ve been doing. It’s nice to have reinforcement that the parenting I’m doing is good enough, especially when I can’t manage anything else!

And, heck, we all might be better off for it.

When Self-Care Comes In Second

Jack is back to school! It’s his second week, in fact. And it’s his fifth day making it to class. Yesterday was picture day and he was told by the photographer that he looked like Harry Potter, which made him very happy.

Antibiotics are done and chemo has restarted. As of Sunday Jack’s ANC was an outstanding 1296! All very good things. Whew, we can breathe again.

Life is back to what is ‘normal’ for us, which means it’s catch up time.

Now that things are moving again and we’ve returned to our regularly scheduled life, fatigue and stress are hitting me hard. I can function like nobody’s business when in the middle of a crisis but as soon as it’s contained, I need to sleep for a month! I wish it wasn’t this way – I wish I had been able to rest more while we sat in the hospital room doing a bunch of nothing. But when I napped, I had nightmares.

So ever since we came home from the hospital, I’ve been caught between needing very badly to get some rest and downtime, and stressing out about that rest getting in the way of catching up on all the things I couldn’t do during that week in the hospital. Mostly that’s a lot of paperwork, bill paying, laundry, and house cleaning. Oh and my job. But there is a big chunk of it that is taking care of myself and also getting time with my husband, things that always seem to get pushed behind everything else.

I’m tired, I’m overwhelmed, and I’m in desperate need of both time alone and time with my husband. And I’m depressed because I can’t see any way around this pile of ickiness.  I just have to go through it.

Family leave should include two parts – the part where you take care of your family, and then the part where you recover from taking care of your family. Where’s the downtime for the caregiver?

I know it’s only a matter of time before I feel like things are okay again. I’ll be able to look on the bright side more readily and I will feel less irritated by things that aren’t going smoothly. Maybe I’ll even be able to blog properly.

Of course, if you hear I’ve run off without a word to anyone, it’s likely I’ve found a very deep hole to hibernate in until the storm in my head has passed. I’ll come out in my own time.

Maybe.