The Day Pollyanna Died a Slow, Agonizing Death

We had to choose a new foot size for Will. This process cracked me up - I've never had to choose a foot before! I quickly texted my friends with boys near Will's age in an effort to determine what is the "normal" shoe size for a boy around his age. I learned that it ranged from a 7-11. Because Will is small for his age, we went with the 7, I think. Also, I wanted the foot to look porportionately correct on him & if we went too big, it would be more a safety hazard. He can literally trip over his own feet since he can't feel them (not to mention the fact that they are several inches lower than his where his actual leg is so they really change his center of gravity & his walking!)

Then, I began my slow, agonizing death.

R & I often refer to me as "Pollyanna." I tend to sometimes be too optimistic (is that possible?) Sometimes, I so want to see the good & the blessing in a situation that I don't recognize the hard parts. This generally works just fine for me - I try to recognize hard things when necessary & then move on.

Pollyanna died on Wednesday.

(She's back now - don't worry. :))

Wednesday was Will's first prosthetics appointment of this year.

It was tough. Really, really, really tough. I called my husband afterwards & begged him to not make me come again without him - at least while Will is not able to fully understand why he is going through this. I usually take pride (too much probably) in being able to fly all the time alone with my child & being able to do these doctors' appointments alone or with my mom who usually picks us up at the airport & helps with the logistical stuff (finding a place in Dallas for Will to take a nap, getting us lunch, driving us around, etc.)

I needed my husband too this week.

For this initial phase of new prosthetics, the prosthetist (Wanda) first measures Will's legs. This is critical because the new zancos must fit perfectly. Will was kind of uncomfortable with this but he informed her his daddy also has a measuring tape & when she let him play & use her extra one, he complied.

Then it got tough. She has to literally put his legs in casts. First, she puts a wet sock on him. Will hates to be cold. (He won't even eat ice cream.) Then, she wraps his legs in thick, cold, wet plaster. Then, she colors & writes all kinds of things on them. She was great & has worked with children for 17 years. Before she even began, she talked to me about ideas for restraining him & even brought out bubbles. Obviously, she's worked with a 2 year old before. He understands he needs new zancos & he can't wait to get some new shoes. However, he is 2 & doesn't have the full logic capabilities to understand why he must endure all of this. Perhaps he has blocked it out from previous trips. He kept crying and saying "I don't want this." Bless his heart - at age 2, my mom kept repeating, "Will, sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do and we don't like." This is a hard, hard life lesson for a two year old to learn. I wanted so badly to just let it be done on my legs instead of his. He eventually went into hysterics and we literally had to both completely restrain him. (I had his legs in a death grip & my mom had his head, chest, and arms.) The casts take about 5 minutes apiece to harden & the patient must stay completely still. We lost our grip at one point & he broke his right cast. Thankfully, she was able to repair it.

The worst part is when she had to cut it off. First, she used what appeared to be a box cutter & then a big pair of scissors. He knows he is not supposed to use scissors because they could hurt you. So, it makes no sense to him why someone would come at his legs with scissors. He was terrified. It is generally impossible to reason with a two year old when they are in hysterics and already late for their nap. Telling him he has to be still and then it will all be over did not work. The appointment lasted an hour & 45 minutes & by the end, we were all exhausted. I held my tears til I got to a bathroom. For the first time, I thought "This sucks!" I don't like to use that word but sometimes it just applies. It was hard. It's not fair. I hate watching my baby boy be so scared and not being able to reason with him. I hate not being able to take this fear away from him. I totally get why some parents never bother continuing with prosthetics - from the making of them to the adjusting to using them - they are sometimes really hard. (Eventually, it all pays off but for awhile- it stinks!)

I'm so thankful for his prosthetist. Wanda is great with kids & loves Will. This was not a discipline issue- just a scared child who didn't understand why he was having to endure this. She was so patient with me (& protective of my belly) & patient with him. She worked as quickly as she could & was able to tune out the crying. I'm thankful also for my mom. It would have been physically impossible for me to do this on my own. My next trip, in April, is on my own & I'm already getting nervous about how it will go - it involves 2 days & 3 appointments. I feel worn out just thinking about it. And the idea of doing this when I have another baby who would probably be crying too - yikes! As we left the hospital, I told my mom it was just so hard & Pollyanna was gone. She (Pollyanna) needed a break for the rest of the day. As Will would say, "I'm not happy right now."

At the end of the appointment, he looked at Wanda & said, "Thank you for making my new zancos."

And then we left. He doesn't understand why he didn't get to bring new zancos home - it takes 6 weeks - several months to complete them.

The measuring process & the beginning of the cutting process (thankfully, my mom brought new movies for Will on her phone to try to distract him - it worked briefly) No pictures were taken during the hysterics. I couldn't release my hands from his legs.
Also, no children or adults were hurt in the making of the zancos- it was a fearful & uncomfortable experience for Will - not a painful one.

Finally, Pollyanna is back & she has a big pollyanna post coming soon (give me a few more days.)