Thursday, February 08, 2007

Sigh....

Today was a fairly typical day for Ethan, except that he had two things on his schedule rather than the usual one. First he had physcial therapy, and as you've seen from pictures of him in the ball pit, that is fairly exhausting. We then ran home to eat lunch, just before loading up again to go across town for his eye appointment. Dr. Crawford hasn't seen him for one month, since the day he got his glasses. He was so tired that he slept on the way to the eye doctor, during the visit, and on the way home. He then went down in his crib for another hour, poor guy was whipped! I couldn't believe she was able to check his eyes while he slept. She literally held his eye lids open and said "his focusing system is totally relaxed, so I'll get a good idea of how he is doing with his glasses", and that she did. He didn't seem to mind one bit. Too bad he won't sleep like that at night!

As I pulled out of the parking lot and made my way back to the highway, I took a glance over at the clinic across the road where Ethan's former pediatrician practices. I noticed an ambulance parked in their lot and was reminded of that day, one year ago this week, that a squad met us there to take Ethan to the local hospital. That was the first time (of many times) that Ethan stopped breathing (and turned blue) from his acid reflux. ALTE's, or apparent life threatening events, became a regular part of our lives for months to follow. I remember that same squad coming to our home earlier that day. By the time they arrived, Ethan had recovered on his own (as he always did, thank goodness) and was fine. They took his vitals and seemed confused as to why they were summoned to an emergency such as this. Later that day it happened again, only this time the local pediatrician witnessed it, at which point the same squad team were called to take us to the hospital. He stopped breathing again while we were en route, and later again that night at Cincinnati Children's Hospital. After several hours in the local hospital, we were met by a transport team from Children's that consisted of a doctor, nurse, and respiratory therapist. It wasn't until their arrival that I finally felt myself getting a grip on reality.

It seems like such a long time ago, and yet only one year has passed. That feeling of being totally out of control is not something I'd wish on anyone, ever. I'd like to think that in time, those memories will be hard to pull up, that they'll have faded into the abyss of things not worth remembering.

No comments: