We Have Come A Long Way

Yesterday, Baba hopped in the shower with her brand spanking new "Power Port" and soaked to the skin before the forty-eight hour mark had passed. So, I found myself digging through that drawer. The one filled to the brim with medical detritus that would make your head spin. We could probably perform minor surgery with all that junk. Yes, we could. I picked up a suture kit and under it, I found:

One of Beanstalk's Favorite Things

Yes, a sucker. Since he was tube fed from four-and-a-half weeks until somewhere around six-to-seven years of age (it was a gradual process not an instant thing), the sucker was actually encouraged in hopes that his swallowing patterns would be as natural as possible. So little Beanstalk had a sucker with him everywhere he went. Even I carried no less than a jillion everywhere I went with him. And he had the power to suck them into oblivion.

He was also picky. At first he would only use these suckers that were gel-filled. Then, finally, he would use the kind you see above. Probably because his little brother liked them and he was an easy target.

Sucker Thief. Guilty as charged,

See? Little brothers are easy pickin's. Oh, and the proper use of the sucker is to suck it upside down. Who knew?

Now, though, he stomps around and talks--mostly in Klingon and occasionally in English--and the sucker is ne'er to be found amongst his "uniform." If you want to call it that. He eats and drinks by mouth entirely which is still unfathomable. I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it so many times. Same with the walking on those bazillion dollar feet. They actually work! He's actually able to almost run!

So when I found that sucker, I couldn't just leave it in the drawer any longer. I couldn't get rid of it, either. I had to bring it out to the house and I thought I'd put a hook on it and hang it on the tree to remind me of how far he's come. And that wonderful Christmas two years ago when he said, "Merry Christmas" for the first time. Called me "Mama" for the first time. Said, "I love you." for the first time.

Last time I sat there and figured it (based on all the lovely odds the doctors kept giving us), there's less that a ten-thousandth of a percent chance that he should even be here alive anymore. But, here he is.

That ought to be enough Christmas for anyone for a lifetime.
Scat