Wow, that poor little guy had leukemia and now he's an old hand at IVIG. I didn't realize that the flow rate was so specific. And I thank you for bringing it up. Believe me, I'll ask questions like crazy if they go ahead and let Alan do this!!!!!

As for the driving with the hand controls. I told Alan all about that when he first got the neuropathy and his feet were killing him. At the same time he had to quit working, go on disability so there went the car and the insurance. I mean, he gets something like $950 a month. Can't have car payments, insurance payments and not work. Not possible in NYC.

So the whole reason Alan goes to the gym, eats what he is supposed to eat, and does what he does is to be able to go back to work (at least part time). maybe we can get a second hand car or something. Even to rent a car for the week-end and go to New Jersey to visit my relatives and friends would really be something.

All this (and my arthritis) well, it gets you down sometimes. My husband is so low on the totem pole compared to what some of you guys go through, I can't even believe it.

But honestly, for me, the hardest part is that I've lost my son. Haven't seen him in 5 years and well, once this happens, you're really not the same.
He has aspergers (very very mild) but he's a compulsive gambler (not mild at all) and all thoughts of home and family, well let's just say, he has no thoughts of us whatsoever and has told us so.

I'm kind of a cheery upbeat sort of person. I always try to be helpful and supportive but once in a while it just hits me that I no longer have my son in my life and it's nights like this that well, it gets very hard.

I think, that of all the disorders I have ever heard of, researched, etc. Aspergers has to be the hardest on parents. Essentialy, an adult aspie (that's what they are called), have little or absolutely no empathy for the feelings of others. I, myself, cannot fathom this kind of thinking process but believe me, it exists. They even have their own website wrongplanet.com.

Never thought this would happen to me.

Oh well, sorry to be so gloomy and doomy but I'm not myself tonight.

Perhaps tomorrow will be brighter.

regards,
Melody