Category Archives: Zach
A Boy, A Shattered Femur and My Life One Year Ago
It’s Memorial Day. While most people are celebrating their freedom with burgers on the beach or picnics boasting red, white and blue treats, our family is celebrating an anniversary.
It’s been one year since Zach broke his leg.
This blog goes back over five years. No topic discussed in that time has garnered as much interest, as much traffic, as that. Every day someone lands on this site from a google search for “hip spica cast” or “broken femur.” Everyone wants to see pictures. And everyday someone reads about our summer with a handicapped child. It was 10 weeks with a 5-year-old in a half-body cast followed by 4 months of 3-times-a-week PT.
I feel terrible thinking this is something special when so many parents raise permanently handicapped children. Many parents will never see their kids leave the wheelchairs behind. Their struggles may be greater and definitely longer-lasting, but that doesn’t diminish the impact of our story. As I flipped back through the posts of last summer, I remembered how difficult it was. (Can you believe I forgot?) I also remembered how incredibly faithful God was.
Our son has been healed! One year from his accident and we’re spending the day playing baseball and taking turns at the batting cages. How awesome is our God? Rejoice with me!
This all happened “so that we would not trust in ourselves but in God who raises the dead. He delivered us … and He will deliver us!”
“We have set our hope on Him that He will deliver us yet again, as you also join in helping us by prayer, so that many people may give thanks to God on our behalf for the gracious gift given to us through the help of many.” (2 Corinthians 1:9b-11)
If you missed it, or if you want to remember and praise God again, here are all the posts from that adventure. I’ve bold-faced the most relevant.
June 3rd: The Newest Dennis Adventure (The accident, hospital stay and cast photos)
July 7th: When A Boy Breaks His Leg … (Photos of x-rays, the wheelchair and life at home)
July 11th: Only Two More Days
July 14th: I shouldn’t blog today. (Disappointment)
July 20th: What I’ve Learned (so far) This Week (Adventures in wheelchairing)
August 2nd: On Many Things (Talk about gardens, hot summers, and inaccurate doctors)
August 4th: Big Birthday Wishes (Zach turns six and gets his wish!)
August 5th: The New Leg of Our Adventure (The cast is off!)
August 9th: A Quickie (First PT appointment)
August 31st: Not Yet Four Weeks Later (videos of his mobility less than 4 weeks after the cast was removed)
Fairness is irrelevant.
My six-year-old son flung his body to the floor, sobbing. Instant tears flooded his red face and splashed onto the carpet. With a reverberating scream, he explained the problem: “THEY’RE CHEATING!!!! IT’S NOT FAIR!!!”
Forget the fact that Zach’s “they” in this scenario referenced animated characters on a Wii baseball team. Forget that Zach was still winning the game by a landslide. Kids take fairness very seriously. If someone breaks the rules, they want justice and they want it quickly. Even if the one seemingly breaking the rules is an inanimate object.
When Zach has this type of outburst (They are regular; he’s an ardent child.), I am torn about how to handle it. Part of me wants to correct him for yelling at the TV and getting so upset. He should be more tempered, right? Part of me wants to laugh at the sight of his lanky, 35-pound body being so filled with passion and fury. And part of me envies his sense of righteousness. He will defend with his whole being what he believes to be good and true.
Somehow between elementary school and adulthood, we lose our vehement defense of justice. I’m sure I’m not the only mom who consistently reminds her children that “life isn’t fair.” Well, no, life isn’t fair, but does that make it right? At what point do we simply accept things as they are? At what point do we stop fighting for things to be just?
A while back I posted about redshirting. I still occasionally get emails or comments about it. My husband and I still have bouts of anger and frustration over it. This weekend someone contacted me to defend her choice and actions. Her argument concluded that “fairness is irrelevant.”
Hmm. Really? Read the rest of this entry
Not Yet Four Weeks Later
Thursday marks four weeks since Zach got his cast off. (If you missed this whole summer saga, go back and read this and this.)
(The sound is a little annoying. I’m sorry about that. The neighbors’ pool filter is acting funny since Irene.)
The orthopedist gets almost giddy when he talks about how amazing kids are, how the heal so quickly. He tells me that it would take an adult three or four months to progress as far as Zach has in just three weeks.
Yes, kids are amazing. Knowing this, witnessing the miracles every day, how can anyone for a moment forget how amazing our Creator is? How can anyone deny that He exists? How can I stop praising Him for all He has done for me?
I can’t.
EVER.
We’ve been so busy with PT appointments and getting ready for a new school year that I’ve not blogged lately. Some of you have questions. Here are a few details.
We continue to go to physical therapy three times a week, an hour each time. Zach does still have a limp, but we’re working on that.
He does stairs! If he holds my hand and the railing, he does them just like a normal six-year-old. If he’s by himself, he usually does the “bear crawl” up and a “bum scoot” down.
As for walking, he does have a walker which he uses whenever we go out or when he gets tired. Around the house, though, he walks all on his own, either limping or using the walls and furniture for support. We haven’t touched the wheelchair for at least two weeks now.
Now, tell me: How good is God?
A Quickie
We started physical therapy yesterday. I must admit my expectations were … um … easily exceeded. Not because I’ve had a bad experience with PT in the past, quite the contrary actually, but rather because of our experience with the doctor who recommended this specific therapist. Thankfully, we had a wonderful first appointment. Seriously, great. Zach and I both came home excited, energized and encouraged.
Look at that. I unintentionally created an alliterated trilogy. Nice.
In a related note, do other writers ever tire of having a constant and persistent editor observing from a cranial balcony?
So here’s the big announcement: not only did Zach stand up by himself yesterday, he also took two steps last night. How cool is that?! The therapist said our goal is to have him walking by Friday. BY FRIDAY!!
God is so good.
And that is all I have to say today.
The new leg of our adventure
I am still processing the events of yesterday, so my thoughts here may seem stilted or a bit jumbled. It is what it is, folks.
On Tuesday I posted on many things including my disillusionment with doctors and this whole cast business. I told you how we likely would not get the cast off until the middle of August. Believing that, we prepped ourselves for yesterday’s appointment by stifling hope and planning to seek additional opinions if necessary. But things didn’t happen as we expected.
After Zach had his x-rays, we corralled both kids into the tiny examination room and simultaneously steeled ourselves for the doctor’s assessment. Instead of his usual demeanor, the doc entered the room with a smile and proclaimed “It’s the day we’ve been waiting for!”
We weren’t ready; we weren’t prepared, but we were willing.
What happened next involved a lot of screaming and crying from both kids. That saw is LOUD. And then more screaming and crying. After being bound for nearly ten weeks, Z was quite uncomfortable with his new liberty. The crying lasted until we got home and then throughout the bath and getting dressed.
The same questions repeatedly rise.
Is he walking? No. In fact, he hasn’t even put weight on it yet. He’s very nervous about bending the newly healed leg, but when he’s not thinking about it, he does move it around. His train table served as a beautiful motivator. He has confirmed that the break location doesn’t hurt at all. It’s just his knee and muscles that hurt. They’re stiff and sorely out of practice.
Is it totally off or does he have a smaller cast? It’s totally off. We don’t have a splint or anything other than a prescription for a pediatric walker, should he need it.
How does it look? Skinny, sore, and kinda gross. You know all the dead skin that naturally exfoliates during baths and while you sleep? Imagine that piling up over ten weeks with nowhere to go. It’s kinda nasty, and now it’s floating in my tub, flaking off my son and leaving a soft, thick layer on all our sheets. In addition, the lack of sunshine has left him looking a touch gray in color.
When do you start physical therapy? Hopefully next week. We’re still waiting for a confirmed appointment.
What now? Well, this is definitely not the end of our adventure, just a new phase of it. Our job now is to get his courage and confidence up while his muscles regain their strength and memory. School starts in less than five weeks. It would be fantastic he were walking independently by then, including doing stairs. If not, though, we will need wisdom to know how what steps to take.
And that’s the story. Life is never boring, is it?
This all happened “so that we would not trust in ourselves but in God who raises the dead. He delivered us … and He will deliver us!”
“We have set our hope on Him that He will deliver us yet again, as you also join in helping us by prayer, so that many people may give thanks to God on our behalf for the gracious gift given to us through the help of many.” (2 Corinthians 1:9b-11)
Praise be to HIM forever and ever! Amen!
Big Birthday Wishes
My baby turned six last night. I still have very mixed feelings about this. When Ellie turned seven earlier this year, I had some major issues to face, stuff worthy of a separate post. This one, though, was different. I now have two big kids in my house. Two big kids and no little ones.
Ellie proved how big she is by decorating her first cake — all by herself! That’s right, my girl designed her brother’s cake and she did a wonderful job with it. She even made the frosting from scratch. Here is her beautiful creation.
She made the chocolate dinosaur molds and lined up all the “dinosaur eggs” around the bottom. She even did the first part of the lettering. I’m so proud of her!
Zach blew out his candles and made one big wish.
Surprising us all, that wish came true today.
I can now see two skinny legs. One is a couple inches shorter and still — even after a rather long bath with watermelon bath bubbles — a touch stinkier than the other, but, oh, it’s such a beautiful sight!
I want to tell you more, to share all the details, but it has been an exhausting, emotional, unexpected day. We’re all wiped. God answered our prayers! I wish my faith were so that I expected those answers just as they came, that my trust prevented surprise at God’s goodness. But my faith too often waivers. Pessimism guards my heart against shattered hopes and then miracles find me utterly unprepared.
Details will follow. I’m off to praise and delight in miracles given me.
On Many Things
Posts that follow my little bloggy vacations are often long, random ramblings on many things. This one is no exception.
On Gardening: I grew up on a large farm in northern Indiana. We had pigs, cows, horses, geese, chickens, a handful of other animals and lots and lots of acreage of hay, soybeans and corn. Our family garden alone was more than one acre. No joke. We even grew our own popcorn. My mother canned and did all sorts of beautifully domestic things that come naturally to homesteaders like Kristina over at Proverbs 31 Woman.
I’ve always romanticized that part of rural living and tried, unsuccessfully, to bring a small piece of it to my suburban home. For four years I’ve tried to grow patio gardens. In four years, groundhogs, squirrels, rabbits, skunks and who knows what else have benefited greatly from my labors. In fact, from my collective annual efforts, I have eaten precisely three tomatoes, two tiny strawberries and absolutely no sunflower seeds.
Like the critters, I have also stolen a couple pints of mulberries from a wild bush growing through the neighbor’s fence, but that has nothing to do with my gardening efforts.
This year, however, I employed a little solution. Or so it seems. I bought a large ornamental birdcage to house my garden. It’s not a huge garden, but it’s not bad considering we live on less than a tenth of an acre. Check it out. Read the rest of this entry
Only Two More Days
Zach’s cast comes off on Wednesday. Only two more days! How exciting is that?
At the risk of sounding like an absolutely despicable mother, I’m a little sad to see this end. Oh, I know last week I mentioned how the time seems to have flown for everyone but us. I talked about how difficult this has been and how we could hardly wait, but now that the end is so near, I have to say time is going by too quickly. It’s not that I want my son to remain bound; it’s just that I have treasured this time with just the two of us. I have relished these moments in which he is so vulnerable and sweet and welcoming my tender care.
Kids grow up in a blink. He turns six next month. Will these be my last days when he actually wants me to hold him? How many more times will I hear that tender voice ask me for help? How long until his independence replaces his desire to cuddle with Mama? Read the rest of this entry
When a boy breaks his leg …
When a five-year-old boy breaks his leg, his x-rays may look like this:
From the top, you can see that his femur broke into three pieces.
From the side, you can see that those pieces overlapped one another at a rather painful angle.
… his sister writes him lots of little love notes while nervously waiting in the ER.
My favorite is the one on the top far left. It simply says “Be ok. Be ok. Be ok.” She was so scared.
When a five-year-old boy breaks his leg weeks before summer break, he misses the last three weeks of school, the end of baseball season, VBS, Sunday School, swim parties and 4th of July fireworks, but his cousins may still envy him because … Read the rest of this entry
Like this:
Recent Kid Quotes
Zach: “I love you the same as you love me. Like a steak as big as our house, but cut into lots and lots of little tiny pieces. Like this. (He held up his fingers about half an inch apart.) That’s how much I love you.”
Zach, while cleaning out the lint trap in the dryer: “This stuff is so warm! It cozy, too. We should make this into a something. Mom, do you know how to make sweaters? Sweaters are warm and cozy.”
Me: “I don’t know how to make sweaters. Aunt Beth does.”
Zach: “That’s great! We should talk to her. She can make a pretty, warm, cozy sweater for us. So we can’t throw this out until you talk to her.”
Note: If you look deep enough in the corner of his closet you will find a growing collection of dryer lint.
Zach: “I like helping you, Mama.”
Me: “I’m glad.”
Zach: “I like helping you because I’m getting a headache from you saying the same thing all the time.”
Ellie: “His name is Monster Yodel — “
Me: “It’s Master Yoda.”
Ellie: “Right. His name is Monster Yodel because he yodels a lot.”
Zach: “Read you will?”
Ellie: “Yodelers always talk backwards.”
Zach: “You know, I’m not really nocturnal. That’s a secret I’ve kept for a long time.”
