Trevy had his 4 year old well visit today.
(somehow I’m just as exhausted as when it’s not a regular, run-a-the-mill kinda visit)
He’s fallen victim to the severe allergies this season. But it’s weird. Cause it’s only affecting one eye. His right eye. The side that theoretically was (past tense since it’s no longer in his noggin’) controlled by his left brain. Which he rubs rubs rubs until it’s swollen and bloodshot. Dr. Pedi recommended trying an OTC eye drop to see if it helps.
He’s 66th percentile for weight at 38lbs. Which is weird. too Cause he looks so skinny. Seriously.
And 44th percentile for height at a whopping 40 inches. Give or take a pathetic (because ,yes…we’re losing them. Sniffle. Sniffle.) curl. Again, weird. And a little bit sad. His newborn length was 95th percentile. We had ourselves a strapping young lad. How proud we were. Why? I don’t know. Silly, I guess. I just remember thinking Trevy was going to be our tallest. Our strongest. And it made me all sappy inside. So many things he was going to be. None of those newborn mommy dreams included even a fraction of the journey we’ve been living. Slowly we’ve watched as his height continues to decline. Evidently it’s not alarming to the medical professionals. But I wonder. I wonder if the meds are stunting his growth. I wonder if the seizures are messing with his physical development as well as his cognitive. Jonathan tells me to stop fretting. I mean, really. The less of him there is. The less of him there is to manage. But still.
The V word came up. Vaccinations. Ugh. Oh how I hate the V word. Not because I fear them. Although I kinda do. But also because I have not during the course of the past three years found the whatever it is I need to find to do the research myself. Except to know with certainty that DTaP is contraindicated for IS babies. And although Trevy does not have IS seizures at this particular moment of time…he does have a history of the catastrophic seizure disorder. And we’ve seen enough frowny faces recently (see this video for a sample frowny face) to still our hearts and not being willing to take the risk. Dr. Pedi isn’t opposed to continuing to withhold vaccinations for the time being. I keep saying “just until he’s six”. Like somehow that’s the magic number. When really. There isn’t a magic number for my heart. Because no matter how old he is I will be holding my breath for several weeks post any immunizations. And I will be destroyed if they should trigger a seizure response. Of any kind. But mostly the Infantile Spasms kind. Dr. Pedi agreed to piggyback a titer on his next blood draw. That way at least I’ll know with certainty that he is no longer benefited from the last round he received. At his 6 month well visit. When immunizations were necessary for us to continue playing missionary in Africa. Because we had witnessed with our very own eyes the bodies of those ravaged by the diseases the Vs protect against.
The visit was short. Just 30 minutes, I think. And yet…the after effects are still lingering. Everything with Trevy is heavier. More complicated. Totally the opposite of easy breezy. It’s all just so darn exhausting! And yet. He’s doing so well considering. (if I had a quarter for every time I hear that…) He practically carried on a one word at a time conversation with her. Pooh. Thoughtful pause. Hug. Thoughtful pause. Buzz. Pause. Hug. Me translating of course because she’d have no idea he still yammers on about our Wish Trip. But she was so impressed. She remembers when he couldn’t communicate at all. And his sensory issues were better. He used to scream over everything. Blood pressure cuff. Ear scope. Stethoscope. He breezed through all that today with minimal fussing. Although he did scream bloody murder when he had to lay down on the table. Actually, he hates laying down on anything against his own will? I’m guessing that’s a sensory response? Sometimes it’s not so hard to navigate life with a non-verbalish kid. But sometimes I sure wish he could help me out. Cause I’d really like to know why exactly he has mondo melt downs every time I have to lay him down to change a poo! I keep reminding him if he just starts going on the potty like a big boy…no more laying down torture sessions.
:: smile ::