The 3rd in the series of those children of mine

It's interesting but writing about my 2 grown up children was far easier than writing about the youngest. I don't know if it's because he has had less experiences to date (though his life has certainly been full of ups and downs), or that at some point I have to say that Master 14 and 3/4's is no longer a child but indeed drawing very quickly into manhood.

Harry aka Hazbag aka Harry Houdini aka Buzz decided not to listen to the nurses sound advice, "I was not ready to deliver" she said, "it would take more hours" in her experience so I was filled with Pethidine and placed belly down onto a bean bag. Not 20 minutes later Harry entered the world, me still on my stomach gulping huge volumes of "Entanox" or happy gas. So much so that I was hallucinating and was quite certain that the nurse said "I cant stop the bleeding" - now I am an ex Registered Nurse and had spent almost a decade caring for the life threatened in ICU @ Royal Brisbane Hospital so I had it all under control. I told my husband that the nurse needed to put up a saline drip and give me 1 litre bolus. He nervously told her and she poo pooed the idea, then in my drug filled haze told her that if she didn't I would loose to much blood and die, again the weary nurse dismissed this crazed woman. At that point I had resigned myself that my husband would be raising our child by himself as I would be dead, I said my goodbyes, told Hugh that I loved him and to take care of our newborn. By now he was terrified and was demanding that the nurse put in the drip and fluids. At this stage the doctor finally arrived to settle the situation. Perhaps in all this lunacy it set the path for Harry to tread, one will never know but those who know and love him may just be nodding their heads in silence.

Now the funny thing about Harry is that he seemed to have more than one mother, in fact, a lot of my friends were at the "clucky" stage and so my house was filled with happy women well prepared to nurse him, share a drink and help ease the torture of sleep deprivation. Thinking back not only did he have some of my closest and dearest girlfriends but also some great mates including Tim (an army nurse/aerobic instructor) who would baby sit wearing one of my disgusting milk sodden tee shirts whilst I would get the shopping done. His theory and one that I adhere to is that Harry could smell me so he was settled. It worked a treat!

There is so much to tell about Harry that this small Blog couldn't even touch on, I will give detail later and hope that when he reads these memoirs later, then he will understand what an amazing young man he has become and that his tortured journey is one that has made him who he is.

Harry had severe Dyslexia which I guessed in grade 2 but we got diagnosed by grade 4, so horrendous was his condition that he both reversed and flipped letters and numbers upside down. I remember one day sitting him on my lap in front of my computer and playing with coloured screens to see if it would help. He told me then that not only did the colours make it worse, but that all the letters still had their tails wiggling, the letters j, y, q, and p never stood still. I told him that "he had to be smarter than anyone in his class, they all read normal boring words, he had to read moving ones so he had to be cleverer".  He felt terrible at Primary school and tried to do anything to get out of class, this included many naughty things but also very initiative schemes. A teacher in grade 3 told him "if your name goes on the black board 3 times you are off to the Principle" Harry got up and wrote harry, harry, harry (most of it reversed) and walked off to the Principle. In fact Mr Falvey was one of Harry's favourite teachers and would proudly take any completed work up to show him. He was mortified when the kindly gentleman finally retired.

Primary school was 7 of the hardest years of Harrys life and by Grade 6 I had resigned myself that he would not reach 18 years old. I was convinced that he would kill himself from the grief and desperation, a view that I later found out was reached by more than a few of the teachers. Buzzy's life changed at the start of grade 6 when "an angel of mercy" arrived at his school, her name is Greta and she has a masters in teaching and specialises in Dyslexia and other learning difficulties. She offered her time free for one student in the school that would most benefit and they rang me directly to come in and agree. He was at early Grade 3 reading and writing at this stage and by the end of Grade 6 she had brought his reading up to Grade 6 and writing to Grade 4, by the finish of Grade 7 he won the Nicky Mirvac award for the student who improved overall in all subjects. She has been the "light at the end of the tunnel" and still takes great care of him 2 afternoons a week, she has become, simply put, part of our family and I can't imagine not being with us for ever!  

Only time will tell how my youngest will go, but I have no hesitation what so-ever that he will definitely go somewhere wonderful. He told me that he would be asking the school if next year he could get up in assembly and do a stand up comedy skit, he has lightning speed wit and a great eye for the obscure and off-line. A great little mate that has come with me to Tassie, Fiji and many other places with my work. I am very, VERY proud of him!!! 

As an adjunct to this Blog, Harry is in Grade 10 at Kedron State High School and deciding what subjects he should choose in order to forge him into what lies beyond. Manual Arts and Technical Design are where his talents are taking him and I only hope that his passion for becoming a builder will lead him into a place within the hallowed halls of Brett's Timber and Hardware as I know that his Grandfather would be proud. 
Harry has progressed and is now completely free from the Dyslexia that haunted him as a youth. Through the endurance of both the master aka Dr Greta Kelly and disciple namely young master Harry - he can read as well as you or I - possibly with better understanding than most.