Our day at ye olde Maricopa County Court House

Krys and I went to court on Monday morning. We were there to get permission to invest Mia's settlement in mutual funds that will bring home more interest than the whopping 1% it's currently earning in a Certificate of Deposit. We also wanted to get a check for a van (her wheelchair is far too big to fit into either of our cars), reimbursement for the hyperbaric oxygen therapy, which we paid for from our own pockets since insurance doesn't cover it, a yearly "salary" paid to her home care giver (since we no longer know if it's going to be me or Krys), and a chunk of change to be used for her annual medical bills that aren't covered by insurance. All her money is restricted so we can't spend it all on a vacation to Aruba, so this will be our life for the next 16 years - going to court for any reason to do with money for her. It's not the worst thing, however - we have an excellent lawyer who is very nice, and her bills will be paid from Mia's account - and the cliche about lawyers being, well, expensive is not an old wives' tale, if you've never had the need to retain one. So we went to court, down there in the ghost town that is downtown Phoenix, where there were actual human beings on the street! Were they ghosts, or demons, or zombies? I don't know. Anyway, the Maricopa Court House is actually a nice building, built in 1928 and totally art deco on the outside and nifty on the inside. We had a judge who is apparently well disposed toward alternate forms of therapy, and batted not an eye at our request to be reimbursed, because he knows a little about hyperbaric oxygen and feels that if it's good for Mia, do it! He batted not an eye at any of our requests, actually, which was nice - the whole thing lasted about 25 minutes, and then we were done. Krys pointed out that it probably doesn't hurt that we're white, well spoken, well dressed - all the things we as a society supposedly have moved beyond, but we all know we really haven't. It's unfortunate that appearance still makes an impression, but it's true. Anyway, soon Mia's money will be invested in mutual funds and earning scads of interest, and the hope is that by the time she turns 18, she will be richer than Croesus and able to take care of her ailing parents! Okay, we just want her to be able to support herself if she has problems finding work. She's learning how to play a harmonica RIGHT NOW!, so how could she fail to find work - she can play in a blues band! (The harmonica, by the way, is part of the "horn hierarchy" - betcha didn't know that existed - which teaches her how to manipulate the breath coming out of her mouth and therefore help her talk. See how much educational information you get reading my ramblings?)

So that was one small traumatic hurdle out of the way. If only everything Mia-related was this easy!