Just so that I have something to blog about? Today we had an appointment with Dr. Paley (I don't think he'd mind me outing him as a workhorse) while the rest of Florida hung out on their boats. I know this because I can see them when I cross over the bridge. And I'm oh, so envious that I almost wreck my car gawking at their fun, sun loving, aquatic escapades. But it wasn't car wrecking that caused me grief today, although it did involve my car...
But, first here is a picture of Carter's x-ray from today. Not only does it illustrate his amazing bone growth, but also serves to remind us that he was raised in the age of technology where not only is "no child let behind" neither are their cell phones. Dr. Paley's report was all favorable (no nerve decompression needed) and we received approval to head for home. We will continue with P.T. this week and be home by the weekend. We'll return in December or January to have the fixator removed and a metal rod inserted into his bone. And then we will rest for a few years! Carter will need another lengthening, probably before high school, but we aren't' focusing on that right now. We left the hospital feeling excited and I immediately got on the phone and started updating everyone on the news. While I was talking to my dad my car started to sputter and at first I was like, "What the...this thing is a Honda...don't they run forever?" Well, apparently they do, but you still have to put gas in them. Annoying.
Of course we found ourselves stranded in the not so good area of town, if you know what I mean. Initially I panicked, but then I got my wits about me, got Carter and the wheelchair, and started hoofing it. But you know what really sucked? I wore my good clothes because going to the doctor is about the most exciting thing we do. And I wore my good sandals that just happen to hurt my feet. Why do the cute ones always induce pain and agony? But the worst part was that I had worn a little sweater- good for waiting in a chilly hospital room, bad for outside activities in Florida on Labor Day when everyone else is in a swimsuit.
We arrived at the gas station sweaty, but alive. Luckily there was a nice attendant named Ralph, an older guy from the Virgin Islands. Who lived in NYC for 26 years until 9-11 when he lost his job as a mechanic. And his daughter had really bad asthma when she was little. And he doesn't believe in divorce, so he and his wife have been separated for 15 years. And he really doesn't like Florida all that much. Ralph kindly helped me fill a gas can and then he walked with us back to the car and filled the tank and made sure my car started. He told me that I should never let my gas tank get below 1/4 tank. Thanks, I told him.
We parted with a fist bump because his hands had gasoline on them. Then Ralph said, "No problem, any time." And I reminded Ralph that I wouldn't be needing him any time soon because I was going to keep my gas tank at least 1/4 of the way full.
We arrived home "glowing" and tired and more ready than ever to go home! Then, I had to get on the phone and let everyone know I'd made it home cause lots of people worry about me. When I called my dad, he said that I should have learned by the time I was 35 that you don't let your tank get that low.
I still have a year, thank you very much. And who knows what I'll blog about then?!?