21 September 2010

Brave Boy

So ... the blood test at Children's went well. Milo is a brave boy - unfortunately used to such injustices given his medical history. Recently released from urology AND given a two year reprieve from nephrology, we now have to work on his iron saturation in his blood. It is going Ok. Since he's still not a great eater, we've had to resort to vitamins and fitness bars with citrus over and over again for maximum absorption (though suggestions to add Nutella, etc. to his diet are great ones - and... maybe I can get him back on raisins and other dried fruit).

So ... these trips bring back memories of surgery in the NICU and monthly visits to the hospital with Milo as an infant - tests in radiology when he was toddler (and looked so cute in his hospital issue pjs - though felt just horrible when the tears would flow :-) - I mean, we know the old hospital and the beautiful new one inside and out - total veterans used to the crowds, the waits, scheduling issues that leave you there all day - eating in the cafeteria - paying for parking - the WHOLE drill. It is familiar, and it is life-affirming in that so many families and children, either sick or with chronic conditions like Milo, just take it all in stride - accept their situation as normal - and remain grateful that they are not one of those so sick they may never leave - or grateful that they do have something manageable - of course, feeling for and thinking of those who do have something more serious or who do not lead normal lives.

For now, we are happy that our blood work is over AND that it is all we had to do today. My brave boy - who I am watching from my window as he throws a pumpkin (that he just HAD to buy at Whole Foods) like a shotput, smashing it again and again on the ground with his brute force. Looks like I need to intervene for the poor pumpkin (and looks like I need to be thankful that I do have a tough boy who can handle so much again and again when he needs to :-).


Linda Pressman said...

Well, I know about that life, for sure. The follow up for my pound and a half preemie was pretty intense, though luckily by age two he was on a pretty normal schedule. Who would think that by age fifteen he'd been yelling at me in the car like any other teenager... :)

Sherri said...

And... those of us who have been through it are, sadly, in a special club - we KNOW what it feels like and are somewhat changed by the experience - inherently understanding the triumphs (our wild boys now years later) and the losses (remember some of those poor NICU parents?).