OK,
its fancy-talk for "slow & steady wins the race", right? In the middle of a storm, do you do better to speed up & get soaked (like I generally do?), or slow down, take cover a few minutes, and get your rain gear on before pressing forward?
General Conference has come & gone again. It's what happens twice a year in our church, in the Fall and in the Spring, and it's where we "come and listen to a prophet's voice." Yes, we believe in a living prophet on the earth today, and apostles, too, same as those that existed in the times of Christ. So when they talk in a turbulent world, and give advice, we want to be there, we want to listen, we want to take heed and implement their teachings. I'm trying to do just that.
I have had favorite apostles through the years. They are all wise and learned. Some are heart surgeons, some are retired university deans, some could be used car salesmen for all I know, but they all have loads of experience. Outside of their day jobs, I mean. They all have spiritual wisdom to share. I try not to have favorites, but I've concluded after this conference, that I have a new favorite apostle. His name is Dieter Uchtdorf. He was raised in post-WWII Germany. His childhood is no doubt what made him who he is today. And I've just come to really like everything he has to say. Its not to say that I don't like what the other apostles are saying, but his talks seem to reach me more than the others'. So this Conference (last weekend) he spoke of a term: "Optimum Turbulence Penetration Speed"... What does it mean? It's obviously a technical term, but he spoke of it in reference to airplanes in turbulent flight, should they speed up, or slow down? Or in trees growing in a stormy climate. Did you know that a tree actually slows down its' growth in bad weather, to focus its' energies on staying alive? It makes sense. It's contrary to my way of working, though. I just tend to plow through things to get them over with. John does the same. I observed my dad doing likewise as I was growing up, but I see that he is wiser now with age. You can read President Uchtdorf's talk here if you'd like to see him and love what he has to say, too: http://new.lds.org/general-conference/2010/10/of-things-that-matter-most?lang=eng
The past few weeks Parker has continued to make progress. We saw the neurologist Friday. I was NOT AT ALL looking forward to it. She is usually depressing, and I was expecting more "bad" news after meeting with her, BUT she basically told me that Parker seems "much better" since she last saw him in April. And that she didn't need to see us again for another year. That he was really in the rehabilitative phase now, and there isn't much she can do for him at this point. It all struck me as very, very, very bizarre. Though I feel the wheel is slowing down, I didn't really expect a "professional" to tell me such. I expected them to tell me we've got to keep plugging along & work this & that because clearly he's not well, even though he's clearly not sick anymore....
What's the date? I've got to take note of this...A bit over 19 months since the Dreaded Meningitis Day. But who's counting, right?
Have we picked up all of the pieces? Have we crossed all our t's and dotted all of our i's? Have we done everything imperative in the critical phase to set him on his way & see how he does? To be the most successful he can be?
Apparently "we" have.
And now" we" pass the torch to the next group. We change courses from the critical phase to the rehab phase. Its VERY bizarre, actually. (Did I already say that?) After all this crying & fussing & pleading & running from one appointment to the next, have we actually settled into a different learning curve? Different phase? I guess so, I guess its official.
Maybe you have all already passed the torch in your assessment of us---to the rehab phase some time ago. Maybe after Peej was released from the hospital the first time you thought he was "ok". But not me. Not me. It's been a long road. A very long, hard road for me.
I can finally meet new people in the park & tell them what happened to Parker when they look inquisitively at his ear apparatus & wonder why he's so big & not walking that he had meningitis, without tears in my eyes (usually). Or without wondering if I need to protect myself from sharing this sacred knowledge for fear that it will not be adequately appreciated, the weight & the struggles on my shoulders and in my arms these past many, many months. I can finally ask Dr L when exactly we can expect, if ever, we can expect Parker to walk on his own, since she has more experience than us with kids with deafness and vestibular dysfunction. Even the neurologist was asking me what his chances are of walking since she hasn't got alot of experience with kids with this problem....
And Dr L gave me lots of hope. She said, "Oh, he'll walk." I responded, "You mean, really walk, right, by himself, not holding my hand like he's doing now, or walking with a walker, right?" She said, "My experience is yes. Sometimes it takes a very long time, but it usually always happens."
The occupational therapist from CEOP explained it to me a few weeks ago that Parker likely feels like he's always on a moving boat. You can imagine why he often looks like a drunken sailor in his gait.
But President Uchtdorf gave me some insight now as to how to direct this path. What is Parker's "Optimum Turbulence Penetration Speed?" Is he through the storm, so now we move faster than we have been in previous months? Will he "grow" more & better & quicker now that the turbulent part of the storm has officially past? Or do we now actually take the time to slow down, and perhaps learn rather than trying to barrel through the "turbulence"? I've been afraid we were not working Parker hard enough or smart enough since "la rentree", since he seems to have many fewer appointments these days. I'm terrified his neurons will not form as they should, his brain lesions will take ground (in their bad form) & not make any more room for new brain waves, new growth, new achievements. Or worse, even--they will decide to start seizing again.
Yes, he is stimulated, of course he is, look who he's surrounded by, but IS HE STIMULATED CORRECTLY and EFFICIENTLY? That is my question now.
We have loads of great news this week:
PJ is starting at CEOP, the deaf school in the 15th in a few weeks' time. Two mornings per week at first, with mama. And a taxi will come and pick us up & drop us off. (Paid for by "Douce France", ie. I'm sure our tax euros contributed to this somehow).
PJ is leaving walls & walking between them, taking more unassisted steps. He walked about 30 steps while pushing a baby doll stroller this week, and I was not even pretending to be holding onto him.
The girls screamed & ran & jumped in our salon for a good 30 minutes last night playing "Monkey in the MIddle" (John taught them!)..and Parker was running & jumping & screaming along with them. He even tried to tackle Hannah one time. I was in heaven watching these kids & wondering how much our neighbors must truly despise us.
PJ is saying "out" all the time he is strapped into a stroller or high chair (its, great, right? albeit grating)
He also says "Ow" when he gets hurt.
We got new parts for his cochlear implant yesterday and it seems to be helping the problems we've been having the past several weeks.
The neurologist doesn't want to see him again for a year.
His attention span seems to be increasing.
He smiles and laughs his way through everything, good and bad.
Great news is he is still here, still fighting, and we are right beside him, preparing our Victory Tunnel for his walking tour when he decides to do it. And we're still trying to best help him figure out his "Optimum Turbulence Penetration Speed" to walk, run, talk, and hear like any other typical boy his age. He's gonna get it. It just may take him awhile more, but he'll get it. The turbulence is decreasing, his pitching boat is steadying.
