Here we go, again

Remember all the antibiotics this summer? And the subsequent tummy upset that left us cleaning and re-taping, again and again.

This time, our luck ran out and we had no more tricks up our sleeve. Apparently, early in the morning, when a diaper is really good and wet, there is no place for, ahem, solid matter to go but up and out. Snug as a 7 week cast is, there was little room for navigation. We attempted to use rounded/soft/small handles to guide a wipe into the area, but it was clear that there was more - and we weren't getting it out.

After an hour of calls, pleading, more calls, more pleading, finally our saga fell on sympathetic ears at Shriner's St. L (thank you, Dr. R). We headed over immediately, and once again, we have a turtle without a shell.

The good news is, it looks good. Remember last time, as soon as it was off John knew it was worse? This doesn't have that feel at all. It looks better! Perfect? Not by a long shot. In fact, I am beginning to think his torso will always be deformed. His rotation is still significant. If there was some way to de-rotate the spine and get it to stay in position, we'd be set. But, not unlike a Slinky's coil, his spine just seems to pop right back despite best efforts of all involved.

John is particularly concerned about his ribs. He doesn't like being touched and he's still wobbly when walking, so I don't want to mess with him too much - poking and prodding. I'll investigate more this evening when he soaks off all this dead skin in the tub. Speaking of, his skin is horrendous this time. There is about a half-dollar sized spot where the trapped matter had already started deteriorating his skin. But, that aside, John said when they cracked off the cast a large spot high up on his hip (not visible from the outside and not the spot that was looking so bad in June). It was a large leathery piece of skin that was attached like a scab, all of which pulled off with the cast. Poor buddy. It's astonishing to me how much they go through that we don't even know about, and really saddening. He can't possibly articulate what that is and what it feels like, except perhaps the tears in the car from sitting too long or the tugging on the side or hips.

Hopefully T will return our call before Monday. If not, we'll follow-up with her in the office and hope and pray they can get him in for an appointment this week. Seeing this improvement reiterates to me that 7 weeks is good. 9 is bad. 6-7 = improvement. 9-10 = deteriorating in the end.