She did it!! Our daughter has completed her six weeks of casting (and, hopefully, healing) after her salter pelvic osetotomy, femoral osteotomy, and femoral shortening. She has spent 20 weeks of this year in casts and still has another six planned. Next up, a day surgery endeavor at Scottish Rite this week... but more on that later.
With Daddy's return slated for late this afternoon or evening, I had another girls' day with Hip Chick. For this time, I purposely did not seek out reinforcements. Why not? Plainly speaking, if I scramble to fill every moment of time Daddy's away with additional help, what kind of example does that set for my daughter? What would that say about me as a wife, mother, and a woman? And what if Plan B does not work... will I expect others to come to my rescue each time I have singular responsibility for her in the years (casts, wheelchairs) to come? I think not! While I treasured the dinner and arboretum companionship these past two days... today was mine.
We began with brunch at an old favorite of mine. I frequented the original site of this local chain regularly in my early 20's and could not recall the last time I visited any location. Today was a perfect excuse! I selected a location within walking distance of one of my favorite grocery stores, to help with an errand afterward.
I quickly assembled the wheelchair and pushed her toward the door with excitement. As I approached the entrance, I met the eyes of several patrons waiting in line indoors, none of whom budged to assist. The restaurant has no automated doors. As I reached to pull the door open and steady it with my heel while pushing the wheelchair over its threshhold, an older gentlemen crossed several people in their 30's and 40's to hold the door for us. I thanked him. One mother sweetly asked what happened to Hip Chick and remarked on her beauty, but this was an anomaly amongst the surrounding clientele. I smiled and said that I welcome questions over stares any day, then explained hip dysplasia to her.
The staff was warm and kind. They cleared an extra large table that had been housing the wait and offered it to us because it was the tallest table. I expressed my gratitude and suggested they seat another small party at the other end of our table, as it was very large and we would like to assist the restaurant by sharing. Soon two women, who looked to be in their 50's or early 60's, joined our table.
These women spoke rather loudly and I could not help overhearing their conversation. It struck me as an ironic juxtaposition that one of the women dominated their conversation with moans of how miserable her life is. She quibbled about her weight while slurping her fried eggs. She complained about deciding whether to select a $40,000 or $60,000 car for her daughter, who needed to learn a lesson about financial management. She gushed about her terrible self-image and announced that she fears what people think of her when they look at her. They hardly glanced our way the few times Hip Chick needed readjustment in her wheelchair. They did not hear her cheery "please" and "thank you" requests to our shared waitress. They did not see her strain to reach her food. They overlooked her giggles and songs as she happily ate her breakfast.
I left the meal feeling that the juxtaposition grew a little profane. As we walked away, the more silent of the two thanked me for sharing the table. I smiled and remarked that we were so grateful for a table that could comfortably accommodate the wheelchair that we wanted to thank the restaurant by sharing.
The waiting area had filled again and many stares eyed us as we crept toward the exit. I looked up to one woman's stares, who actually responded by looking down into her coffee cup, sipping it awkwardly, and gripping it tightly. Not one able-bodied individual offered to help with the door. I wanted to channel Sally Field's performance from Forrest Gump and announce in a pronouced-yet-dignified southern drawl: "What's the matter? Haven't you seen a little girl in a wheelchair before?" Our waitress chased after us and ran ahead to open the door. Cafe Brazil's staff earned an A+. The clientele ... well, you can assign your own grade. I am slightly ashamed to admit that this specific location is down the street from my alma mater.
Next, we had a shopping expedition! Mommy had a special afternoon project in mind and we needed a few supplies, plus our favorite rosemary bread for the week. Much like our prior shopping tip, our little hippie held a hand basket in her lap. She was Mommy's special helper and quite excited to do so!
We returned home for a very special project: Hip Chick's first cooking lesson! I had planned to begin mommy-daughter cooking lessons earlier this year, but traction and multiple casts wedged in the way. I wanted to keep the cast as clean as possible. With a cast change around the corner and cast #5 on our plates, I finally decided: cast be damned, I am sharing this experience with my baby.
She loved it! She mashed bananas for Mommy's special chocolate chip banana muffins. She whisked dry goods. She counted ingredients as I measured and poured them. We stirred the final swirl of ingredients together, our hands on top of each other. And the best part was sampling our work! A fun time, indeed.
Below are additional thoughts.
1. Last week's update portrayed fragility in the household. Have things improved?
Yes. Week five was our bottom and week six was our rebound. She slept full nights three times this week and her interrupted sleep was less volatile. Thank goodness.
2. There has been no mention of diaper leaks for this cast... does this mean we have incurred none?
No- we had two urine leaks, one loose stool at school (due to overindulgence of oranges) and one super soupy diaper this morning. I think it was due to a coconut raspberry smoothie late last night. If we were going to have a diaper like that, we are fortunate that it came so close to her cast change... I never want to experience that again! Regardless, I have been less hard on ourselves for such things these past six weeks.
3. There have been more notes in the blog about strangers' reactions for this fourth cast than the prior three. Why so?
In her prior casts, we would carry her most of the time and could often minimize sight of her casts with long dresses. She is now too heavy to carry for excursions. The wheelchair and the cast's stability bar are unmistakable- there is nothing anonymous about a wheelchair housing a bright spica cast.
The wheelchair also draws far more attention from other kids. Some are curious, many are upset. While at the arboretum yesterday, one little boy saw her and instantly grew a rather troubled look on his face. He must have been around 10 years old. He asked me in a very sad and respectful voice whether Hip Chick would ever be ok. I smiled and told him that she was born without the right bones in her hip. I explained that we are fixing it for her and, yes, she will be ok. I believe my response to children's questions about her could have a lifelong impact on how they view disability and want to make the right mark.
4. There is another appointment at Scottish Rite on the horizon- what will this entail?
As usual, we will admit through Day Surgery for Hip Chick's OR reservation. She will be administered general anesthesia. While in the OR, her cast will be removed and an arthrogram performed, meaning that a long needle will inject dye into her hip for imaging. What is unique to this visit is that they will check her pelvis for bone generation. If enough bone has generated around her graft, they will open her hip and remove the pins currently holding it together. If not, the pins will remain until cast-off, which is currently planned for December. Then, she will be recasted and return to us! Cast #5, coming right up...
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