Role Playing

Yesterday I got be a treasure hunter, triage nurse, surgeon and plumber all in the matter of two hours. Let's just say that I was ready for bed at the end of that.

We spent the afternoon at the birthday party for a four year old friend. It was the second of what looks to be four unseasonably warm days and many attendees were nursing sunburns from the first of those days. We're having July weather in April. And I refuse, out of good old New Englander stubbornness, to turn on the AC in April. But that is neither here nor there...

After we got home I asked Dee Dee and Little Dudely to put their bicycles away. While running up and down our (long) gravel driveway, Dee Dee's shell bracelet broke. She returned to the house distraught and thus began my time as a treasure hunter. Just try to find a dozen small shells on a 300' stretch of gravel driveway, I dare you.

Upon the successful completion of that adventure we returned home for bath time. Once upstairs Dee Dee declared that her knee hurt and that she was unable to walk on it. So she hobbled around to demonstrate. I considered my options. No obvious cause like some sort of trauma, late Sunday night (no options but the ER), nothing making it worse. She was deemed low priority for the moment. Bath time was more pressing.

Next Little Dudely emerged from his room after dressing for bed holding out his hand: "What's this?" he asked pointing at his finger. A splinter. I sighed and retrieved the tweezers and a pin. After carefully explaining what I was going to do Little Dudely allowed me to extract the splinter as gently as I could. He even bravely held a light for me. Then we went and found the perfect bandaid.

When I was done with Little Dudely's snuggle I went to check on Dee Dee who was finishing her getting-ready-for-bed routine in the bathroom. As I opened the door she gasped and burst into tears. She had just dropped one of her earrings into the sink... I retreated downstairs to gather myself.

That was the first time recently that I've been grateful that my nose has been mostly plugged from an endless series of colds (I'm finishing up two months of sniffling and all those other symptoms). What I could smell as I removed the trap from the plumbing was beyond foul. Not fully understanding the quantity or quality of muck I had in the trap, I dumped it into another (plugged) sink. That's when I realized that my only hope for recovering the earring was to stick my hand into that putrid mess and swish around in it. The earring is now soaking in an antiseptic bath.

After reassembling the plumbing and declaring my success to Dee Dee I returned to the office to look up knee pain on the internet. I went back upstairs to evalute Dee Dee's knee. Earlier she had been unable to straighten it and experienced more pain with her foot flexed than pointed. As I got ready to ask her to test her knee I saw her amble easily across the room with Pip in her arms. Huh? Whatever was wrong had fixed itself - at least for the time being.

All I knew was that I was done with the trials of the evening. I hoped.

Limping

We spent last Wednesday at Children's Hospital with Pookie. We were there to see her orthopedic surgeon. Normally we see him every six months to check on her spine. Her scoliosis has been progressing in fits and spurts for the past six years. When she grows, it grows. And then she needs a new brace.

But we weren't there for a standard brace/spine check. We were there because her gait had been steadily deteriorating. Her waddling walk had become a definitive limp and then started approaching a staggering sort of limp. We let her parade around naked after bathtime trying to get a sense of where the limp originated: her feet? knees? hips? spine? Our guess was her left knee, but we couldn't say why.

The doctor came with his standard accompaniment - an intern, resident, or in this case, an orthopedic surgeon visiting from Palestine for a few weeks. He watched her walk with and without her brace. He poked a bit. He moved her joints through their full range of motion trying to feel the resistance someplace. He hypothesized it was her hip. He knew from previous x-rays that her hips aren't formed exactly right. Perhaps something had changed. He sent us down to radiology. Hips and spine please - just to make sure it wasn't related to the curve.

X-ray technology is pretty amazing. The digital films can be screened immediately by the technicians. And by us. I love seeing them and asking about what I'm seeing when I don't understand. The technicians are always friendly, and this time they were also impressively proficient at getting the x-rays. Sometimes it doesn't go so well because Pookie won't hold still. They were quick with the button.

We learned from the initial screening that her latest brace constrains her lumbar curve quite well. But then that just means the torque in her spine pops out in her thoracic curve. That looked, uh, not so good. And we asked about that dark patch in her belly. Um... yeah. We thought she might be backed up...

Her orthopedic surgeon looked at the x-rays. No evidence of anything that would drive such a limp. We went back to our hypothesis about her knee. She sat in her jogger and allowed him to work with her knees. He thought he could talk himself into believing there was some swelling. He noted that he couldn't quite get full extension. We reminded him of her high tolerance for pain. She gets mighty upset by unpleasant surprises, but doesn't complain about any pain that is anything like chronic. She didn't know that her reflux hurt until we fixed it. Now she knows to ask for her medicine if it's bothering her.

We all watched as he attempted to straighten her leg. She was distracted by whatever she was doing, but there was just a hint of stiffening throughout her body. He decided that was enough to warrant x-rays. Back to radiology: two views, both knees. I jokingly asked if we should just do her ankles and feet at the same time...

After all the requisite waiting before and after the x-rays, then waiting to be seen by the doctor again, he took a look at her new x-rays. We learned that Pookie's right knee cap had either formed in two parts or been fractured sometime in the past. Did I mention her high tolerance for pain? But that wasn't causing any problems, it was merely an interesting side note.

Her left knee cap isn't where it's supposed to be. It's high and to the outside. He examined it again and was surprised to find fluid around her knee. She had walked from the waiting room to the exam room, perhaps fifty feet. That was enough to make a presumptive diagnosis that her knee was the cause of her limp. He referred us to the hip and knee specialist. Speculation is that an MRI might be in order. That would require sedation. Pookie has a significant anesthesia risk - just ask the team over at Eye & Ear. Her orthopedic surgeon wants an MRI of her spine if we need one of her knees. Double check for a tethered cord. He also referred us down to the orthotists for yet another brace.

Pookie did not want another brace. She managed to wrestle her pant leg up over the brace and then ripped off the brace within about twenty minutes. I sighed. We discussed how to make it more difficult for her to remove it. Turns out we didn't need to. Each time I put it on I explained that it was to help her knee feel better. She's a smart kid. She can tell it helps.

The next evening we were out for dinner. I noticed her limp was less pronounced and that she was walking faster. Then she went up a small step leading with her left foot. I can't remember the last time that she did that. So we know we've identified part of the problem. Next month we go back to meet the hip and knee guy. I wonder what he'll discover?

We made another trek up to my family's camp in NH last week. All five of us. Only five of us. I'm not sure how many years it's been since all five of us went up, or even if it's ever happened. And I'm not sure if we've gone without additional adult support (one or both of my parents) to help, even with just two of our three kids. The camp itself can be a handful as it's off-the-grid.

We had blocked out three days and two nights to make the journey up there. We finally decided to give it a go and bring Pookie along. With no electricity all of her favorite activities are not available, but we had our ukulele and her jogger and a swing. And she's a very content kid. To be honest, she surprised us. But that's a story for another day.

As we approached from the west along the Kancamagus we discovered that the gates were still closed on a 1.5 mile stretch of the road leading to the camp. We'd have to drive 25 minutes around the long way. Dee Dee, Little Dudely and I decided to walk in while Dad and Pookie drove around.

It's not a 25 minute walk under any conditions, but after spending four hours in the car and then bursting out into a stunning early spring day, well, it stretches out and becomes an hour long walk. The kids climbed the big rock face just on the other side of the covered bridge then collected all sort of treasures on our way down the road. Pine cones of several varieties and in several stages of opening. Sticks. Rocks. Lichen covered bark. Big sheaths and rolls of birch bark. We stopped to listen to the day. The river. The wind in the tree tops. Birds. Dry oak leaves rustling along the ground. A squirrel scurrying somewhere. We talked about places we'd visited along the road back in January, in the snow. Places that we'd visited years before when Little Dudely was just toddling and mostly bald. We stopped at the brook rushing under the bridge. We listened to the different sounds of the water falling over the rocks in different places. We inspected the remaining snow, and laughed about all the dog poops melting out of it. We kicked at and slipped on the slushy ice.

Dad and Pookie had arrived at the camp, opened it up, unloaded the car, got the generator started and pumped water all before we tripped up the driveway with our armfuls of treasures. It was a good day.

The next afternoon we split up again. Dad took Pookie in her jogger for a walk up to the Covered Bridge and back along the same stretch of road the others of us had walked the day before. Meanwhile I led Dee Dee and Little Dudely in their brand new hiking shoes up the trail to Woodchuck Ledge. We went slowly, stopping frequently as it's a steep climb and the footing is often uncertain. We rested at the Lower Ledges as is customary, then continued on up.

It took 45 minutes including our breaks. It isn't a mountain, but it is the steepest, most rugged climb my kids have accomplished. And it's an important hike in our family. We tally our ascents of Woodchuck Ledge on a chalk board at the camp. This was a momentous occasion. I allowed Dee Dee and Little Dudely to call Poppa and Grammy from the ledge. It's one place you can actually get cell phone reception near(ish) to the camp. And I took pictures to document their achievement.

I have to admit it felt a bit odd to be pulling out a cell phone in this wonderful, private, natural spot. But it felt great to listen to Dee Dee announce to Poppa that she was calling from Woodchuck Ledge. I think he was quite pleased, gratified and surprised to hear of their conquest.

Dee Dee almost immediately starting asking when we were heading back down. Little Dudely sat quietly and declared that he liked just sitting up there. It's quite a view and a truly serene location - looking over the Swift River Valley and across to Mount Chocorua. And it was beautiful and warm and breezy.

Little Dudely finally agreed to head back down when I reminded him of the marshmallow roast we had planned for after our return. Personally, I could have spent as long as he wanted just sitting quietly, but Dee Dee was really ready to go. We agreed to carry up a picnic next time and just chill for awhile up there on the ledge.

My kids discovered that down can be as hard as up. We picked our way down carefully. We paused for breaks and again rested at the Lower Ledges. 45 minutes later we emerged back at the camp. Pleased and proud. Dad and Pookie had enjoyed a blissful walk and Dad was singing and playing ukulele for Pookie when we arrived. Everybody was ready for the marshmallow roast... It was a good day.

Lil

I went to the market the other day. I went for the things I can't find at the produce market or Trader Joe's, or the things I can get at Trader Joe's but that I'm unwilling to drive that far to get. We only go to Trader Joe's every other week or so. Good prices, good food. A long way away. So I went Shaw's.

On my way to the checkout I was scanning the lanes for a shorter line. The lines weren't all that long - the express lane was longest and I had far more than ten items - but still, I like to try to pick a short one. A woman maybe in her fifties passed me heading in the opposite direction towards the express lane. Trailing her a few feet back was a small woman probably in her late seventies, maybe even in her eighties. Her hair was thinning and white, straight and cut about chin length. She had a sparse white beard of chin hairs and wore a pale blue winter jacket. Her face was open and vibrant.

I smiled and said "Hello." Her gazed latched onto mine. She smiled and spoke something I couldn't quite understand. She took hold of my arm saying "You remember me? You remember me?" "No, I don't think we've ever met. I'm Becky. What's your name?" I said holding out my other hand to her in greeting. At the same time her caretaker spoke to her "No, she doesn't know you." and then to me "Her name is Lil."

"Hello Lil. It's nice to meet you. Are you here buying some good food?" She grabbed me and hugged me close, she came up only to my shoulder. I noticed her caretaker holding just a turkey. "Oh you're having turkey. Aren't you lucky." She pulled at me begging, expectant, hopeful "You come home with me?" "No, I've got to get home to my little ones." I replied gently. She continued to hug my arm, happy to have found another friend, not quite ready to surrender me back to the world.

Her caretaker called to her and she let go of my arm. Our eyes met again as we said goodbye. Inside I was thinking that I did remember her. She reminded me of Pookie. Pookie seventy years from now. Pookie if she ever speaks. Content, open and loving. I hope she had a wonderful meal surrounded by friends and family. I hope Pookie will always be surrounded by friends and family. People who love her. I we all are always surrounded by people who love us.