Saturday, August 06, 2011


So we've had an unusually big week.  Between the whooping cough exposure scare, the orthopedics appointment, and sundry volunteer projects, we've slid into Friday just about toodled out.  Among other exciting details for this week is my ongoing argument about coverage of one of Q's meds - it's been a particularly bad time to pay out of pocket for a generic which is running almost five bucks a day.  But here we are.

On Thursday we got to help put together the bound schedules for the Suzuki camp which begins bright and early Monday morning.  The kids have been practicing the music for their groups as well as their pieces for the master classes.  It's a little surreal to contemplate, how all their effort comes together for them.  They've been taking violin for three years now, G has had about a year on the viola.  It's pretty thrilling to watch and listen to them play in groups, and their solo performances are coming along nicely - E especially so with fiddling.  The bigger three have been taking piano for almost six years, S for five.  K and S are streaking out ahead with piano:  K has been pushing G and E for a couple of years now, while S just recently announced that she believes she's at the place where she's now just going to play for fun, it's that nice.  See me grinning?  I listen to them these days with my heart in my throat, amazed at all this progress.

About Q's ortho recheck, then.  The x-rays this time show his left hip out about 75%, as compared to the 60% from earlier this year, with an increased slope in the socket.  His right hip is out a smidge farther than it was last time, but not much a'tall changed, though that socket appears to be somewhat more sloped as well.  We discussed the options for surgery, for waiting, for injections into Q's thigh muscles.  I asked the surgeon what he'd do if this was his kid.  He grinned, self-deprecatingly, knowingly, and said that there just isn't a right answer, but given how engaged and responsive Q is*, he would go ahead with the surgery to change the angles in both femurs, build up the left socket, and look at the right socket once in surgery to determine whether or not he needs that socket built up too.  There's a 5% chance that Q would need a transfusion (the pelvic area is highly vascular) with both femurs and one socket, but about a 40-50% chance of needing a transfusion when the second socket also requires work.  About 3% of patients seen through this clinic (children's hospital) require another surgery to tweak something or make further changes after the initial surgery.  This is important partly because if that right socket needs work, better to do it all at once, because it's a not-fun recovery.  So if there's a 97% chance that the first go gets it all, best to do it then - which leads us to wait a little longer.  The ortho guy said that since there's been some small changes in that side that we'd have a better idea in another six months.  So Q goes back in February for more pictures and another chat.

In the meantime, we've therapies, dental appointments, orthodontist appointments, school, school, and more school to do.  Q begins kindergarten in a few weeks (gak!).  G begins the tenth grade (how did that happen!?) and thinks about getting a job to pay for all the cool stuff he wants to do.  And the girls push on ahead in their studies, too.  I may be a little bit of a geek, because this all seems like pretty exciting stuff to me, this growing up and out of the kids, this new school term.  This stretching and testing of their ever stronger and more capable wings.

*You may recall - I hope I mentioned this before - that there's a study out of Australia indicating that the more engaged and "verbal" a child is, the more likely he is to have pain with subluxed hips.  In fact, it's nearly 100% vs. about 40% for kids who are less interactive.  In other words, there seems to be a connection between how much a child is trying to venture into or respond to relationships, typical presentation or not, and his or her pain levels.  This fact drives me a little crazy.  Imagine all those punkins who have pain and can't communicate it.   Thinking about it feels like toothpicks in my brain.

I had a moment on my back porch (my back porch!) with a nice glass of ice water, checking out the stars as the sky emptied its light into another hemisphere.  You'll be relieved to know most of them are still out there.  The backyard rocks continue to proliferate like bunnies.  I've had some help with the weeds - thank you (you know who you are)!  And the wee little discount/saved from death plants are looking like they may yet choose life.  It smells good out there, all sweetly herby and verdant in our wedge of earth.  It's quiet and a little damp in the coolness of the day.  Dewy, I guess. 



Come on over.  I've got ice water.

1 comment:

Carroll said...

I know it's easy to say one will pray and harder to do it. I am not helping you in visible/physical ways - but I care and am praying for what humanly seem like insurmountable hurdles. I admire the love and intentional opportunities and experiences you give your lovely kids. I hope God provides superhuman strength.