Torture...pure T.O.R.T.U.R.E.

These are the words that have, very melodramatically, been delivered to me several times over the past few days by my Glee-loving, feigning dizziness, ever-putting-on-a-show daughter. On Wednesday, when we saw the hand OT at Vincent Pallotti, we could not find parking close to the hand clinic so had to park in the hospital's general parking area about 300 metres away from the entrance. I know what you're thinking...she's young, energetic and fit...or so you'd think, AND didn't have a squirmey-wormey smurf on the arm. But alas, when we left the clinic just before noon, it was quite a show she put on complete with moments of nearly collapsing to the ground with the "torture...pure torture" of having to walk so far to the car!

Yesterday was even more of a Meg-atastrophe...not only could we not find parking in the general parking area, we had to park on an upper level parking area, which meant stairs. THE HORROR!!! So again, when we left, it was amidst regular outbursts of "torture...pure torture". She really is such a funny kid. Chris desperately wanted me to take a video of her "watching" Glee the other evening (she watches each episode an absolute minimum of at least four/five times...every....single...day!). Who woulda thought Glee was an interactive programme and required the watcher thereof to mimic every move made throughout the show. You would have thought she'd be able manage the occasional transition between hospital and car then, right? Anyway, Meg has been an invaluable help to me over the past week - it's thanks to her that Kim managed to refit Sam's splint on Wednesday, this time without hysterical screaming which meant a much more effective fit. And yesterday kept Sam occupied through pretty much our entire appointment with Dr dT, so that I could concentrate on what was being said. So I have just reserved tickets for her and and I to go watch the new Smurf 3-D movie this evening...it's a surprise, haven't told her yet.

Oh yes...our mysterious "orthopaed" appointment yesterday afternoon. I was watching an old Hillsong episode while doing my own "torture...pure torture" on the spinning bike last night. It was about negativity and how even a remotely negative outlook effects everything...our thoughts, our actions...our perceptions! Yesterday was a prime example. Here's what I was thinking : last week, when we saw Sam's hand surgeon, I had asked him about the lack of fluidity in Sam's hand movements (eg. when he waves, it is done in a series of jerks as opposed to a flowing movement) and he'd said that he thought it to be a neurological issue. I didn't prod any further because the whole appointment lasted about two hours and of course, by then, Sam was doing his own remarkably accurate impression of Grumpy Smurf. But by the time we arrived back at home the whole "neurological" thing had had plenty of time to mull around in my head and I regretted not asking for more information. Then on Friday morning, when Dr dT's assistant phoned and requested that I bring Sam in, my mind went wild and I figured that perhaps Dr C had also been giving more thought to the neurological thing and done some further investigating and come up with a gloomy diagnosis, but wanted Dr dT's opinion on it before one of them shared the bad news with me! Seriously, that is really what I was expecting. Boy, was I wrong!

The real motivation behind the request was that Dr dT had in fact been researching and considering and researching and considering...and wanted to explain to me, in person, with the aid of graphics and Sam's x-rays exactly what is going on in Sam's little left foot and what the plan is to rectify it (and, to top it off, there was no charge for the consultation). Slightly off the mark I was, I'd say. And, yes...here it comes...I am absolutely loving Sam's specialist's at the moment.

The only drawback (is there ever not one?) is that we might be doing the surgery on Sam's foot a little sooner than I originally anticipated, possibly by the age of 3/3½ which would mean May-December next year, but I was hoping to only do the removal of the right testicle around April (which would mean a eight month gap between this and the last op) but with Dr dT and Dr J (urologist) being at different hospitals we would not be able to couple the two surgeries together, so let's hope we are looking more around the 3½ yrs mark for the foot surgery. I am becoming increasinly anxious about the fact that that little right testicle is wafting around halfway to where it's supposed to be, mostly because of the reaction I get from others, mostly doctors actually, when I tell them. Perhaps we need to bump up that surgery to mid-March, depending on how much time I'll need to recover from the Argus. In fact, now that I think about it, with the Argus officially taking place on the 11th March, I might very well still be cycling it on the 15th (Yes, I do know you only have seven hours to finish)...mmmm, might need some further thought, the op that is....already have a headache just thinking about it all.

Our ST for this morning was cancelled due to an illness in ST's family, so we resume next Thursday. And of course we have little Matt & Nic's birthday parties tomorrow. Yay! for seeing our RTS family again. And, on Monday morning, it's back to PT...Yikes!

Remember this pic :

Sam in May 2010

And here's how much he's grown :

He can barely fit into the swing now and, seeing as he's become too heavy for it to mechanically swing him, he now swings himself. Did I mention that at our last paed appointment, Dr B pointed out that, taking Sam's corrected age into consideration, he is just just touching the very bottom line on a NORMAL...yes, I said it, NORMAL weight graph!