Today Namine had an appointment at Children’s Hospital with the allergy people. (I don’t really know what the department is really called. I doubt they call themselves “allergy people.”) Last time, we found out that she was allergic to cheese (but we’ve stayed away from all dairy, just to be safe) and rice. Today, they concluded that Namine has outgrown both of those allergies. We remain cautiously optimistic, but if she is no longer allergic to dairystuffs, how cool is that? (Answer: very cool.)

The only allergy that turned up positive was eggs, but they think that might have been a false positive. I mean, she’s demolished a whole plateful of scrambled eggs and suffered no ill effects, so I don’t know. I think we’ll just err on the side of caution for this one. They didn’t test for cats, though, so we’ll still need to be careful around my mom’s and Melissa’s. Nora is pretty aloof anyway.*

So the big thing coming up is Namine’s next surgery: cleft palate repair. It’s a week from tomorrow, so mark your calendars. We already have, to be sure. Pre-surgery is always like a wrecking ball on my nerves, so I tend to blabber when I’m typing. A single-threaded thought turns into a runaway train of whatever might cross my mind. Bananas. See? See??

Seriously, though, this is gonna suck big-time. Not so much the surgery itself, which will be under the cool and practiced hand of Dr. Denny, the same great doctor that steered us through Namine’s jaw distraction. He’s already proven to us that he’s a caring and capable doctor, and I have every confidence in his ability holding a knife. No, it’s the 2 weeks post-op that have me worried. You see, Namine’s arms will have to be restrained the entire time. Knowing Namine and how much she loves to move around, I can only anticipate how pissed off she’s going to be. Crabby, at the very least. So here are some things she won’t be able to do:

Put her fingers in her mouth.
Feed herself.
Hold her Boon cup (which I hereby submit as the most awesome and independence-empowering thing she has) and give herself water/milk/juice/tea**.
Crawl/scoot around. (This. Not being able to move around is going to be bad for all of us.)
Talk. (She will often plug her trach with her finger, so she can be louder and enunciate. She will often call our names – “mama” and “haha” – or sing along with music like this.)

I’m sure there are more things I can’t think of, but I think I’ve made my point. I hope those 2 weeks pass quickly, and God give us strength. (I’m not being glib about that, either. )

Then again, maybe I’m making more of it than it’s going to be.

* Melissa’s roommate’s cat, not my brother’s fiancee. I don’t think she’s ever hissed at me. I could be wrong.
** Namine loves the Rooibus Chai and MateVana blend. Yes, my not-even-2-yet daughter is a tea freak. (So am I, but don’t tell my wife.)


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