He's my skater boy..

Five foot, five inches
Brown eyes, each with a hint of trouble-maker glinting in the corner
A smile that would warm any heart
Tussled brown hair, falling in his eyes, obviously screaming for a trim
Worn, used to be black, faded jeans, resting slightly above his hips
Black over-sized sweatshirt, covering a ripped T-shirt with faded emblems on the back
Skateboard a permanent extension of his body it seems

One skater after the next ride...up the ramp...over the ledge, to land 4 feet below, hopefully with their feet firmly planted on their board. Not many, but some, land on the deck, then promptly lose their balance and end up flat on the ground. Most fall directly onto their tailbones, their backs, their boards, whatever, never making contact with the deck after leaving the ledge. They grumble, groan, mumble "bad words" sometimes, and skate back to the end of the line to try, try again. As I watch, he waits his turn. He gets into position, waiting, lip sucked in at one corner, body tense. Then, with a flick of the hair, he takes off running, drops his board next to him and jumps onto it in one smooth move, and up the ramp he goes. He nears the edge...his tongue sticks out slightly, a sign of intense concentration. He crouches, awaiting the moment of lift off...How he does it, I have no idea, but at the edge of the ledge, his feet and his skateboard dance. His hands fly up, like he's a bird, and they are his wings. His knees come damn near to his chest. The board flips, makes the correct rotations in the direction it's asked too, and before he even reaches the ground, his feet have reclaimed their position on the deck. The impact of the spinning wheels hitting cold cement under his body is almost to throw him off center, but he holds it. Sketchy or not, he has landed! A "Yeah, baby!" rings out, and a few boards are slammed on the ground in the customary celebration beat. Thump, thump, thump.... A huge grin spreads across his face as he smoothly glides, one with his board, back to his place in line. He looks over at me, pushing his hair out of his eyes for the millionth time that afternoon. "Did you see that? FINALLY! I landed it..I can't believe I landed it! Did you see it, Mom?"

Twelve years old and he holds my heart in the palm of his hand. I never knew what a "chest swelling with pride" meant until I had him. I also never knew that the Dragon Ball Z skateboard I bought him 4 Christmas' ago would birth such passion in him. He has ambitious dreams of being a pro-skater. Ambitious, I say, because there's 12.7 bazillion kids that have the same aspiration. The perfectionist in him gets so angry when he misses a trick. Some days are just bad days, some tricks are just over his head, technically...sometimes he's just expecting too much from himself & his surroundings. But whatever the case may be, he doesn't give up. I watched him take his turn at least 25 times yesterday before he could land that trick. Some of the other kids around said he was "dumb" for trying because it was too hard to do. And each of those times, my heart ached for him a bit more. His eyes were starting to get dark. His fists were clenched tightly closed. He'd sit down every few minutes, off to the side, and I thought for sure that was it, he was done. I saw his lips moving, silently yelling at himself. He was getting more and more irritated at himself, at his deck for not co-operating, at everything. But each time, he got back up, reclaimed his spot in line, and tackled the trick again...until success. Seeing his face after he finally landed was the fuel this mother's heart needed. My chest literally ached. I felt like the happiness & the pride had taken my breath away. Of course, can I show it? Nah....A smile and a "Way to go!" is all I can say. Anything more then that, he'd be embarrassed. On the way home later, when we are alone, I try to say I'm proud of him for never showing just how mad he was., that I was proud of him for never giving up. He just says "Pfft...Whatever....I wasn't mad."

A clarification of sorts...

I suppose I should clarify something. I'm sure anyone who reads my previous post has made a few assumptions about me. I probably sound like a know-it all, a doctor hating woman who seriously mistrusts anyone in the government or medical field. Part of that is true. I am a know-it all...lol At least I like to think I know it all. A small voice in the back of my mind says I don't...but I don't usually listen. However, the rest of the assumptions you have made are mostly false. I do not mistrust ALL government...just most of it. I do not hate or mistrust all doctors, just the ones with "M" stamped on their forehead, as a acquaintance of mine recently said. What does the "M" stand for, you're probably wondering. "M" is for McDonald's.... to signify a doctor that has applied a fast food mentality to his practice. Get 'em in, give them what they want/need as soon as you possibly can, take their money (too much of it too), and get 'em out A.S.A.P. This is the kind of doctor that doesn't care about you, only cares about your money. These are the kinds of people that shouldn't be allowed to practice medicine. These are the ones that seem to be multiplying by the minute. Maybe the professors at med school are forgetting to tell these soon-to-be-doctors that they will be working with real people, not robots. That they need to have compassion. That they need to understand that their patient WILL have a brain, WILL be able to understand if you'd bother to explain, and most likely would LOVE to have a say in how they are treated.
While I'm sure I sound bitter & less then forgiving, I will say this..a different breed of medical professional DOES exist. The kind that greets you with a smile in their voice, not just painted on their face. The kind that will give you options when they can. The kind that will work their knuckles to the bone trying to save a prematurely born loved one. The kind that will take 35 minutes, or more, to draw and explain in detail what they will be doing for your child's surgery. The kind that will understand that you are a parent. You have rights. You have a child to protect, love & care for, and the REAL reason you need a doctor??? To ASSIST you in providing your child with the best in everything possible. To HELP you, not to make you feel like the scum of the earth for asking questions & being involved in your child's health. This kind of doctor DOES exist..thankfully. And hopefully they will overcome the urge to get "M" tattooed across their own foreheads.

The future?

I'm thoroughly convinced that in years to come, parents will have no rights to make the decisions made in the "interest of" their children. There's going to be a day, mark my words, when your doctor tells you that your child "needs" something, and you will not have the power to refuse. Your grandchildren may end up on the wrong end of a conversation something like this....

"Ma'am...Thank you for bringing 2 yr old Billy in today. That ear infection he has would have been prevented if you had brought him in last week for his monthly check-up. He was due for his monthly injection. I've noted his chart of your missed appointment. I hope you understand that one more ignored check-up appointment will result in my sending a report to the Parent and Child Watch Agency... Anyways, during my examination of Billy, I noticed your son has a birthmark the size of a pin head on his thigh. Yes, I understand it's no bigger then the pimples he will get as a teenager, but, mind you, we will most likely have to give him medication, maybe even surgery, to control those as well. Research has shown a possible link between pimples and hormonal inbalances in teens. No, not every teen goes through that "just because"...where do you get your unfounded ridiculous information?? Anyway, as I was saying, we cannot allow this child to have to endure the ridicule, should anyone notice this blemish on his thigh...Because of this, I'm scheduling a surgery for next Thursday, 4 pm. We will remove this poor child's deformity. And while we have him sleeping, we will be implanting a few micro chips. One will be to track his emotional responses to anything anyone says to him. This will let us know if he begins to develop a low self esteem or a social disorder. Early detection paves the way to early intervention, and medication at the first sign of an issue can reduce the risk for corrective brain surgery in the future. The other micro chips will track his exposure to things like the flu, strep throat, etc. If any exposures are detected, they will transmit an alarm to my office, and we will call you at the first sign of trouble to bring him in to get the appropriate immunization immediately. Yes, I understand he's already had his full vaccination schedule, but unfortunately, viruses keep mutating, and the current 3,792 vaccinations available and in use do not always protect our precious children. You don't want him to get sick, do you? And here, give him this 4 times a day. It will make him like all veggies...even avocado and brussel sprouts. It may take a few weeks, but he will gradually stop refusing to eat any vegetable, and probably fruits too. He may start refusing to eat sweet things, like cake, candy, etc. Studies have shown a strong possibility that children who don't eat any sweets after the age of 2 are more likely to grow up to be straight A students, so every child must take this medicine, beginning at Billy's age. I'm sorry? You don't understand? You think some of these things are still experimental & not necessary? Well, ma'am, honestly, I don't think you need to understand completely. I'm just doing what's in the best interest of your child, and you would think you'd be agreeable to that, even if you don't "get it". If, after you think about everything I've said for a moment, you still don't think any of this is something you can agree with, I will make arrangements for Billy. We know wonderful people that would be more then happy to care for the boy according to the recommendations of this office and the government. I'm sure they'd allow you to visit from time to time. So, what do you say?"