The destruction II
I thought the broken window was sort of funny. The chair? Kind of annoying, but hey, he’s a boy, he’s going to break things. Smearing all my makeup on the cabinets in the bathroom? Yeah, he was pushing it there, but now he’s really crossed the line. Oscar destroyed my camera. My beloved digital SLR. I almost want to cry. I’m just hoping he didn’t wreck the expensive lens on it, too. It might be too much to bear.
Team Mom Review – Leslie Patricelli Books
Back before Oscar, I used to love to read. I still do, but all I read now are board books, which is why I was so pleased to receive my new package from Team Mom this month. This month we received two books by Leslie Patricelli, both of which have made it into our daily reading rotation.
Both books are big hits, but since we’re still at the board book stage, we’re getting the most use out of “Baby Happy Baby Sad”. I remember seeing books from this author on Amazon, but wondering if they were a bit simplistic. They are basic, but I actually think that is what is nice about them. This books introduces fundamental concepts (in this book, basic emotions) to kids, which I think is very helpful (at least in our house). The theme of the book (no surprise) is happy and sad moments for babies. I won’t give the entire premise away, though! The pictures are both colorful and very expressive.
I also like the second book, called ”Higher! Higher!” Oscar is a swinger (in the right sense), and this is great because it’s a story of a little girl on a swing asking her father to push her higher and higher. Each new page shows just how high she can go. It’s not a board book, but even Oscar is loving looking at the bright illustrations. Both books are available now, and I think they’d make a great first birthday present for any child.
Regularly scheduled programming
Something odd happened at the zoo today. Oscar had a good time. We didn’t start strong, but once we got past my moms group’s Easter Egg Hunt, which was way too much for him, we hit the Children’s Zoo. I didn’t even know we had one of these. The kid went insane. He usually holds on to me for dear life, but he wanted down immediately. Not only that, which is a huge deal, he literally ran towards an animal. He got a bit skittish when he got there, but he launched right in. You know what happened next? He freaking smiled. The child smiled in public with a million (or at least a couple dozen) strangers around him. I mean, it was packed there. And then he didn’t even turn and freak out a few minutes later. We were there for a long time, and he had fun. Lots of it. So much fun that he started doing something he rarely does. It’s this old man rocking on his heels thing where he pats his belly as he rocks forward and backward. Really cute. I actually had to pick him up and run so I could get us out of there in time for my meeting this afternoon. We are so definitely going back there.
Not entirely sure he’s going to like this in the first picture, but by the second shot, he was actually smiling.
A not so colossal callosum
I don’t remember what show this was from (maybe Phoebe from Friends?), but I remember someone saying a line once “yeah, well, so that happened,” which pretty much sums up where my head is right about now. Last night a friend asked me how I was doing, and I said that either I was chin-deep in denial or I’m really doing extremely well. She kindly noted that I am also fairly heavily medicated, for which I am so incredibly thankful (for both the medication and the reminder, since I truly was thinking I was really handling things well, which was kind of freaking me out on its own).
I was somewhat expecting not to get completely great news from the neurologist, if I’m honest with myself. All last weekend, I kept looking at Oscar and wondering whether last weekend was the last “normal” weekend we were going to have. Whether we were about to receive news that would be life-changing. I was, of course, thinking that the news could be something about a tumor or impending blindness, but I was also wondering whether he had had some sort of malady from when he was in the orphanage or birth. I have thought for some time that there was something going on in his brain. I just didn’t imagine that I would get the news I got yesterday. My random googling of his symptoms didn’t get me anywhere near his diagnosis.
Here’s what I know. Oscar has an issue with part of his brain called the corpus callosum. It’s the part of the brain that connects the left and right hemispheres to allow for communication between the sides of the brain. It’s like a thick bundle of nerves (over 200 million of them). Some kids are actually born without one, which can result in very unfortunate things. Oscar has one, but it’s just not entirely well formed. Apparently, this is not an area of the body that continues to develop after birth, so he has what he’s going to have. We can’t change it. It seems to be the case that there is some pretty helpful information out there on people who do not have a corpus callosum at all. It is not the case, from what I can see, that there’s much information on what might happen to people with a malformation of one.
From what I’m told, this disorder manifests itself in many ways. Oscar’s main manifestations appear to be related to his vision, developmental delays, high threshold for pain and some emotional issues (sleeping and fearfulness). There are a number of other issues that can arise, but I’m hopeful that he’s on the mild side of the spectrum (not that it’s a spectrum disorder like autism, but you know what I mean).
What’s odd is that one of the reasons so little might be known about this condition is that it’s thought that a lot of people might have this condition and simply not even know it. We never would have known about it if Oscar had not had his “eye thing,” which required a brain MRI. Apparently you can live your whole life with this and just not know what’s causing your learning disability (or far worse) or physical ailments. In a way, it’s good that I know, since I can focus on getting him additional assistance and therapy now instead of waiting until he’s older. As much as I would like to reflect on that positive side, though, I’m not yet ready to make lemonade of the lemons we were just given. I mean, I will try to make this into a positive, but I think it’s going to take a little while to work through this.
I went home last night late, since I was really inefficient at work because I spent so much time on the phone with doctors and online. I usually am careful to make sure I don’t wake Oscar when I move him from his bed into mine, but I let him wake up last night. We watched Kung Fu P@nda and ate Cheet0s until almost 1:00 am. When he realized that I was turning on the laptop to watch one of his movies in bed, he looked at me in awe, like that was the greatest moment of his life so far. I was pretty sure then that everything was going to be fine. That whatever is going on in his little brain isn’t going to be all that detrimental; or at least, we’d be able to get through whatever it was. That resolve seems to dissipate when I am not with him, but it’s early days yet.
Um, ok
So, the good news is that Oscar does not have a brain tumor! Yay! Insert huge, audible sigh of relief here.
The not so great / confusing / uncertain / possibly extremely bad news is that his MRI did show an anomaly (I’m not ready to call it an abnormality as the neuro did) in an area of his brain I had never even heard of, which is the reason for the delayed results (as we all probably expected). Because I can get no straightforward news relating to Oscar’s obscure condition, which is even more complicated now than previously thought, I don’t even know when to expect that I will be able to understand what is going on with him. The radiologists are going to talk with the neurologists, who are going to seek other opinions from other neurologists across the country, and at some point I may know what might be wrong with my son’s brain. All I know right now is that there is a problem, that the problem is not fixable, that this malformation can lead to significant developmental difficulties, but then again, it might lead to only somewhat significant developmental difficulties, like extremely delayed speech. By the way, all those signs last summer that pointed to autism? Yep, probably all related to this. For now, I was told not to worry about it too much. Insert me laughing maniacally here.
A decision
I’ve decided that no matter what the neurologist tells me, I am taking the approach that there is nothing wrong with Oscar. They’ve simply taken too long. Had they gotten back to me in a timely manner following his procedure, I would listen to whatever they have to say. Had they taken the procedure seriously at all, scheduling it within a few months of when it was first ordered, maybe I’d even take them more seriously. However, they’ve blown me off for too long, implying (or at least I’m inferring) that there is nothing wrong. So be it. As much as I’m loving this losing 1+ pounds a day (seriously, I am loving that part, aside from feeling like I’m going to fall over dead at any moment for not having any food in me), the madness must end now.
The destruction
First, no news from the neurologist. I got through to his assistant, who left me a message last night saying that the doctor was going to come into the office today and should get back to me, but if he doesn’t he’ll definitely do so on Monday after he returns from his seminar at which he is speaking. I think you know how many times I’ll be calling them again today.
Second, Oscar has turned into a human wrecking ball. It started innocently enough the other day, when he started banging the computer monitor against an outlet (the child has super-human strength), but has progressed to his ripping up chairs, floors and walls. Oh, yes, and the window he broke with his fist. All this in a matter of days. Does insurance cover this sort of thing? Seems like I should be able to classify it as having occurred from some sort of force of nature.
-
Etta’s Hats
Where I’ve Been
