I have a son named Chance. He is 17 years old, going into his senior year of high school. He’s handsome, funny, quirky, brave, strong, sometimes grumpy. Hey, nobody’s perfect! LOL!
I love him. He’s still like a 9 month old baby intellectually and physically. He wears diapers, doesn’t talk or walk unassisted and has daily seizures. It’s God-awful. It’s ruined my life. I was just barely making it, widowed, with one teenage child and then I was pregnant. And then the father ran away. And I have fibromyalgia. And I work full time. And I have a house and bills to take care of. And the baby’s not well. There’s something wrong and the doctors won’t believe me. Tip.
He was eventually, after many time consuming and physically punishing doctors appointments, diagnosed with cerebral palsy and epilepsy. At one point they said he was virtually blind. Tip. As he got older, he wasn’t gaining weight. He wouldn’t breastfeed and then never learned how to chew, or talk, walk, potty train… He looked like a skeleton. We’re fortunate to live near a big city with lots of the best medical care in the country. Baltimore, Kennedy Krieger Institute, Johns Hopkins Hospital. We started going to a feeding clinic at KK and they suggested a feeding tube, although they have a cutesy name for it, button. It’s a surgical procedure where his intestine is hooked up to the outside. There are many complications possible. It would make things easier for me and them, but that doesn’t mean it’s best for Chance.
They gave him a goal weight and I stuffed him full of food and formula so we could avoid “the button”. And we did hit! He hit the goal weight, so for now he’s safe. When I’m not around anymore (something I worry about constantly), he will probably end up with one, but His beautiful bod is still whole.
Update: In May of 2018 Chance developed aspiration pneumonia. In order to avoid it again, he was deathly ill, I had a stomach tube placed. 😲