Sometimes doctors are the best.
We have seen countless physicians since Danny’s birth and hospital stay in the NICU.
He has been evaluated and treated by multiple pediatricians, specialists, and surgeons.
Particularly during his infancy, we were on a steady cycle of attending appointments and tests.
My husband and I focused on Danny’s strengths and how we could assist him with therapy and treatment.
While externally my husband and I stayed strong, internally I was feeling like a mess.
I spent every day imagining infinite visions of Danny’s future.
I could not picture what it would look like, if he would have a fulfilled life, and how we would manage to help him achieve his dreams.
I was tormented with the “what ifs” and “never will bes” and constantly lived in a place where all I could do was speculate.
During Danny’s one-year appointment, Danny’s pediatrician was the best.
I was feeling pretty defeated and had learned to brace myself for bad news during appointments.
She sat down with us, smiled and talked with Danny, and she looked confidently to us and said, “We know what Danny’s diagnoses are. Do you know who doesn’t know or care? Danny. Danny is a one-year-old with his entire life ahead of him.”
This simple statement started to turn the ship.
I worked very hard to deny my anxieties about the future, and to concentrate on the child before me.
When my mind would start to wonder and worry, I would remember that Danny is just Danny.
Danny just wants to keep practicing to kick his legs in the swimming pool.
Danny just wants to keep working on grasping his toy cars and delights in dropping them to the ground.
Danny beams with pride when he is able to say the word “bath” and we understand him.
He buoys me with his fierce determination and strong will.
Now that Danny is three, he does have some understanding of his challenges.
He knows when his spasticity is kicking in, and he lets us know when he has muscle spasms.
He expresses frustration about his physical limitations, and we try to explain things to him.
It’s not easy.
Danny’s orthopedic surgeon listens to Danny and to us about our dreams for Danny.
He sets no limits to what is possible, and shows us pictures of children he has treated that now play football.
If we talk about how we are using essential oils or massage therapy, he does not scoff.
He leans in and says, “Tell me more about that.”
He offers information about the latest in neuroplasticity, embraces traditional and alternative therapies, and has encouraged us to believe in the possibilities.
While we don’t know what the future will be for Danny and regardless of what it is; I am eternally grateful to have found the medical team that we have.
Even if today is as much as it will ever be, I am determined to keep our expectations high.
I will not be afraid to hope.
We will always dream.
Does your child wear pads or nappies/diapers?