When Geography Matters.

Today Isabelle had an appointment with Dr. Sadhwani of the Cardiac Neurodevelopmental Program at Boston Children’s Hospital. She was not happy being trapped in the car for over an hour and decided that the chest clip on her car seat was far too annoying to bear. By the time we reached Hanover she was halfway out of her car seat demanding goldfish. I complied, and tried to keep her amused in spite of the “No.” I kept getting from the back seat.

“Do you want your milk?”
“No.”
“Can I get your tummy?”
“No.”
“Do you want to sing a song?”
“No.”
I turned to look at her at one point and heard “Noooooo!”

You get the idea. She was not happy. Neither was I since I had to listen to more discussion about the Patriots, balls, deflated whatever, and what an ass Goodell is all the way in thanks to the various sports stations in the area. I welcomed the “Traffic on the Threes” to break it up a little. I even tolerated Jon Keller as he shamed the Boston Olympics peeps for being stupid enough to think the City of Boston would want the Olympics here with that up and down voice he has when being condescending. Or is that really how he talks?

After a cookie, goldfish and a few “Look Izzie, the city!” exclamations, we made it to Longwood. Usually it takes us about an hour to get to BCH. Today was a little more than that but we were still on schedule. We figured out how to get to Farley through Fegan (only BCH peeps would know what that is) and to the 6th floor we went! She was weighed and measured. She didn’t cry. There wasn’t any sign of any distress of any kind. As a matter of fact, when we were in the lobby waiting for an elevator, Izzie exclaimed” I want to see the doctors!”

After waiting a little bit the doctor came in and greeted us with lots of activities. Izzie was going to play with the “toys” she brought in. Izzie wasn’t keen about sitting at the table but relented when she saw the different items she would be playing with. And so it began. The repetitive questioning about which crayon was which color, did she know her shapes (she did. She even knows octogon but we didn’t divulge that information) and which duck was bigger commenced with little bribery. Izzie enjoyed completing each task. Perhaps it was my expression of joy (and relief) when she recognized objects appropriately. Soon she learned that every time she completed a task, we were so happy so she went along with what the doctor was asking her to do.

We played in the hallway. She ran when asked, tried to hop on one foot and jumped with two feet. The doctor was happy to see how well she moved but noticed that after a little while she began to breathe heavy. We shrugged it off, she breathes heavy but it doesn’t stop her. It didn’t this time either. Izzie proceeded to run after a soccer ball and go up and down the stairs to show coordination. Today she took some steps by herself without holding onto anything. First time ever. Chris and I were thrilled.

The doctor gave her a snack of crackers and juice to give her a break and reward for her hard work. Izzie obliged the doctor and completed a few more tasks with some prompting.  I could see that she was showing signs that she was over it with the puzzles and if this lady asks what color this crayon is one more time….The doctor knew she was running out of time, so she offered Izzie the chance of a lifetime- to cut paper with scissors.

“Izzie, do you want to play with the scissors?”
Izzie’s eyes widen in amazement and she responds with a resounding “Yes!”
“Ok, three more pages and then you can have the scissors.”
If Isabelle could say “Really?” in appropriate context, I think she would have at that moment. The next few pages were an agonizing “Izzie, do you see the picture here? (flips page) Ok, where on this page do you see that picture?” “Scissors. I want scissors.” “Ok, soon you will have the scissors but I need you to answer this question.” I bet you know where this is going.

Eventually Isabelle was able to use the scissors and she cut paper for the first time ever. I am not sure Chris was too thrilled that she learned this skill but I was happy she could do things I didn’t know she could do. Including use scissors. The doctor then told us that she would gather the results and let us know what her thoughts were for Izzie. After a few minutes (and for me a few text replies later) she came back in and I prepared myself to hear the results.

She did incredibly well. It is rare for her (the doctor) to say this but she agrees with the staff from Mt. Pleasant and felt strongly that Izzie did not need services any longer. She reached her milestones appropriate for a three year old. She is ready for preschool emotionally, socially, and physically. She may need a medical plan because of her HLHS, but other than that, she is on point for where a heart healthy child should be at age three.

I thought back to our first appointment with the Advanced Fetal Medicine center where Dr. Levine told me that our child may be significantly delayed and a few IQ points less than my other two children. The memory of sitting there not knowing what the future held for us struck me. The fear enveloping me, not wanting to have hope because what if I get my hopes up only to not be able to take her home with us. And the thought no one wants to admit they have “What am I going to do if the child is significantly behind the others?”  Yeah. I asked myself that question as I sat listening to the obligatory statistics Dr. Levine had to tell us. And then I heard “Tennis.”

“I’m sorry, what?” I asked not sure if I heard her correctly.

“One of my kids plays tennis. Another is a gymnast. Some are delayed and some are right where other kids their age are. Some only are a few points less than their siblings are on the IQ scale.”

And here we are. Izzie is meeting her milestones. Sometimes I wonder if it was her high oxygen saturation levels after her Norwood that allowed her brain to grow the way it was supposed to. Other times I think it is the incredible staff at the Kennedy Donovan Center who sang songs and engaged her every week. And then there is her surgeon, Dr. Emani, who did one of the most perfect repairs other cardiologists at BCH has ever seen. (Direct quotes people- I heard them say it) Or maybe it is the fact that Chris and I have put our differences aside, and parent our girls together. We try hard to be available for them and provide stability for them, which is essential for brain development.

Whatever is the reason, Izzie is ready for what every three year old is ready for- playtime and snacks. Ok, playtime, circle time, recess, fun activities, letters, and maybe a few snacks. My hypoplast is ready for whatever her school path will take her. Thank God we live an hour away from the best hospital in the world we could have gone to. Thank God I live minutes away from where they live with their dad so I can be there in a flash if he needs me or they need me. Thank God I live in a state that provides supplemental medicare (thank you taxpayers, I mean that) on top of her health insurance so we can provide her with the care she needs. Thank God we live in a country where we have religious freedom to pray to whatever God we need to pray to and a healthcare system that will not leave her behind because she was born with a condition she didn’t ask for. Thank God. And so I will.