Parker is doing ok and taking little steps of progress.
Early last week he started having severe respiratory issues and woke up several times in the night coughing and trying clear the congestion. He spent a lot of time crying inconsolably during the day as the only way to express his discomfort. He also refused to eat or drink. He would complain loudly being left on his own and only Renee's embrace would calm him.
We were concerned that this was either due to a negative reaction to the flu vaccine he had or some malfunction with his shunt. It lasted awhile but Renee can name 3 days where he cried continuously.
At the visit to Garches on Friday Dr. Quijano identified it as bronchitis and some inflamed ear drums and gave us 2 different antibiotics to treat. Since Friday night, Parker's health and demeanor have improved dramatically.
Today we had a visit with the Neurosurgeon, Dr. Puget. PJ had a CT scan on Friday and the results looked very similar to the ones we had seen in June and September and Dr Puget confirmed that there wasn't much new; the ventricular shunt seemed to be working correctly and there continued to be a pocket of liquid in the subdural portion of his skull that had not grown or dissipated in the previous months and also did not seem to be putting pressure on the brain. She asked to see him standing and we suggested he crawl across the floor which he did quickly and with his typical coordination. Unsolicited she said "your little boy will walk in 2010". She then sent us on our way and said we would have another appointment in June 2010 but Parker wouldn't need a scan.
At home he is trying to keep up with his sisters and is exploring the apartment. He has a favorite branch of the Christmas tree to maul and I am constantly re-placing the lights. He has a particular interest in garbage cans and seems to seek them out throughout the house, open them, then proceed to remove the contents onto the floor until he finds something he would like to play with. Of course we try and discourage this behavior whenever we see him but he is pretty quick at finding his way around the house without us noticing him.
He is responding well to his implant and makes many more sounds. One of the other mothers who has a child with an implant devised a mini-backpack to house this and keep it attached to a child's body. She made several and provided them to the doctors at Necker and I think it has been an effective way of preventing the implant from falling off.
With the first flakes of snow accompanying us on our drive to church yesterday, temperatures barely above freezing and starting the day in a grey dawn and finishing it in a dark early night, winter is upon us. It has always been the least favorite season of our time in Paris, the cold is biting, the sun is sparse, and the inevitable sicknesses that accompany the elements seem to multiply and propagate amongst our children and eventually impact us as well leaving us tired and lacking in energy and resolve. Invariably this leads us to reflect on last winter and last Christmas where the trials and concerns of that time seem trivial.
Last week was also difficult for Renee as I was traveling and she had to deal with keeping the family moving along without the help of our nanny, Lea, who deservedly returned to the Philippines for Christmas after a 6 year absence from her now 8 and 10 year old sons.
We also received a letter from the French administration where they accepted Parker's file and classified him as being at least 80% disabled. While we had been waiting for this letter as it allows us to get reimbursed for many of the costs associated with Parker's treatments, it was difficult for Renee to have another tangible reminder that her little boy is different. He is not like the other little boys of our friends and family. He is not like his sisters. He is deaf. He is handicapped.
I admit that the words are somewhat hard to accept and commit to record but I truly believe that may be what he is, but it is not what he will be.
I would love to pretend that it didn't bother me at all that his development has been slowed: I hate meningitis for what it has done -- so much it scares me that I could have such a loathing for something inanimate.
I also wish that I had the serenity of faith that regardless of what his condition is now, through the resurrection this will be healed and this time will count for a small moment. I do believe that, deeply in a sustaining manner-- but I am an impatient soul who likes to get to the seeing part of things quickly after belief.
I am convinced that soon he will be able to walk, and talk and hear or process sound or whatever it needs to be. I am convinced that he will learn and grow much like other children. I am convinced he will be strong; in fact I am convinced he will be stronger.
