We did our whole medicine routine, involving her tube extension, a syringe of Tylenol and a syringe of water. Then I picked her up to snuggle her and for the first time today, felt at peace.
I believe this is what they call an antidote. An antidote against the incredible nastiness that has turned up in the face of what can only be called a media blitz. An antidote against the words burned in my eyes, mind and heart of people who I know have not bothered to read our actual story. Instead they're forming opinions based on a misleading, disingenuous article posted today on People.com. An article we were never contacted about, nor have any way of contacting them to make corrections.
All day I have been on the verge of tears, trying very hard to concentrate on the unbelievable outpouring of support but instead finding myself concentrated on scathing words only intended to kick us while we are so far down already.
But then I got my antidote.
Quinn is my antidote.
Brett, Colin and Reid are my antidotes.
My friends who have texted me nonstop today to plead with me not to read the comments, who asked me to remember the incredible acts of kindness and words of support which are in far greater supply, and when all else failed, who created accounts just to try to right the wrongs - they are my antidote.
The woman whose birthday is today, as was her mother's - who in her honor sent Quinn a beautiful bouquet of roses so she may "stop and smell" them, and a tickle book since "laughter is the best medicine" and who did not leave her name - she is my antidote.
All of you who have left incredible words of support, who want desperately to help, who keep Quinn, us and the whole NPA community in your hearts - you are my antidote.
I returned to yoga recently after a very long hiatus, and at my very first class back my instructor had the most simple yet poignant message for us.
It's ok if you lose your balance - that's how you find it
I definitely lost my balance today but with the help of my antidotes, I think I've found it again.