The Next Chapter

Last Monday, Timothy and I headed out to Philly for a quick round of appointments in hopes of discovering what's next with Timothy's medical care.

Each time I travel with my son, I become more and more convinced he could make it from our doorstep to Shriner's Hospital without any assistance. I simply let Timothy lead the way through the Philadelphia Airport in order for him to hail his own cab. Although routine, every trip has its nuances . . .

As we exited the plane after having landed, Timothy stopped and turned back, only to say to the flight attendant: "Oh, thank you mister for my drink." To the plane itself he said, "And thanks plane for landing good." I witnessed the most weary of travellers crack a smile.

At the top of the ramp, Timothy pulled on my hand and said, "Dad, I have to pee-pee." I was proud of him for telling me, as we have been working to get him fully potty-trained (or house-broken as I say). Unfortunately, when the moment arrived for the "pee-pee party" to begin in the bathroom, aim was not much of a priority . . . and I got . . . shall I say . . . hosed down.

Strange. I packed Timothy an extra set of clothes in case of an accident, but I didn't consider packing myself an extra set in case of his accident.

With a devilish grin, Timothy said, "Sorry I pee-peed on you, Dad."

One stop at the airblower, and we were on our way.

Upon arrival at Shriner's, we went to the "splint shop" and picked up Timothy's new splints. From there, it was off to xrays before having our appointment with one of Timothy's orthopedic surgeons.

While waiting for the doctor to arrive, one of the nurses came in and with a commanding voice said, "Young man, where do you live?" It was obvious by her clipboard and pen, she was seeking to know our address.

Without flinching, Timothy replied, "I live at home."

Not to be deterred in gathering the basics, she continued, "How old are you?"

"Four", Timothy replied.

She probed further. "When did you turn four?"

Timothy responded, "On my birthday."

She gave up and summoned the doctor.

After the doctor examined Timothy, he broke things down for us into bite size chunks.

Hands
Coming along nicely. Keep stretching and wearing night splints.

Toe
Surgery in the next two months to straighten his middle toe. Cut a tendon, shorten a bone, fuse a joint, set a pin. One hour surgery. Six weeks in a cast.

Back
Lower back remains steady after surgical correction. Upper scoliosis is 39 degrees and holding (which is good news). The only option to correct things is surgery, so we'll take 39 degrees any day!

Knees and Hips
Due to contractures, Timothy continues to walk with his knees bent 15 degrees and his hips bent at about 20 degrees. While this requires his body to work a bit harder than most, Timothy simply goes and goes.

The doctor laid out a few options. One option was continual exercise and stretching.

And then . . . the doctor wielded his pen. He began drawing the lower extremities of a skeleton on a scratch piece of paper.

I admit, in that moment, I said a dumb thing. "Wow. That's a good drawing of bones."

Not only had I been peed on, but with those words being spoken to a trained orthopedic surgeon, I won the pea-brain award for the day.

He graciously thanked me for my compliment and then proceeded to draw lines across the femurs and knees, accompanied with these words:

"To straighten Timothy, we could cut both femurs in two here . . . and reattach them like this . . . and then we could put plates in his knees here . . . and tighten some screws here . . . and that should eventually help in straightening everything out."

After I regained consciousness, he continued: "These are relatively simpl surgeries for me, but they would be a bit hard on Timothy at this age -- so I'd rather pursue stretching and exercise and see how he responds."

I could not agree more.

If I had to sum up the trip, I'd say we know a bit more about what's next . . . and we know there are some helpful options available should we need them in the future. Through it all, God continues to remain gracious and true . . . and our son continues to embody an overcoming spirit . . . before all of which we stand amazed.

If you ask Timothy to sum up the trip, he'd simply say, "I flew on a plane, saw my friends, and peed on Dad."

(Below pictures: Timothy reading the flight emergency procedures. Timothy carbo-loading on a pretzel before x-rays. Timothy getting new splints. Timothy crashing in the cab after the carbs caught up to him. Timothy refueling before heading home.)