Today, Namine had what was probably her first genuine panic attack. The way this came about fills me with sadness, but it was not unexpected – neither what brought about the attack, nor the attack itself. I will say this, though: her perception of the hospital and her doctors should not surprise us. Not one bit.
Last night I expressed to Jessica my concern for Namine’s right foot. Her toes seem to be curling more than when she’d first had the clubfoot repair. The makeshift brace was not doing its job – and how could it, being attached to her leg with a flexible Ace bandage? Jessica agreed with me on this, and we both have since come to the conclusion that it is in Namine’s best interests to refit her with full casts again until her AFOs are ready. Since this will not be until after Christmas, we think Namine’s feet need firmer support for such a long time.
We had been warned by Namine’s ortho doctor that her feet would probably regress a little; maybe even a lot. We did not, however, expect it to happen so soon. Well, this is the price she is paying for not having the operation done until so late into her life. Her bones, tendons, ligaments, and muscles have set; this is the way they are, because they have grown into that shape. No finger-pointing will change that, so I deem such behavior pointless and juvenile. Anger still overcomes me from time to time, but this, too, shall pass.
Namine has an appointment for either tomorrow or Wednesday (I don’t remember which) to be recasted. So we sat her down and explained that she needed to go see Dr. Thometz and get casts put on again. Namine cried and screamed so hard that she made herself sick to her stomach, and she threw up twice.
This, I think, more than anything else so far, is an indication that Namine understands enough to know what’s going on. But no explanation to her will make it all right. As far as she knows, the point of all this is merely pain. To her, her feet needed no fixing. They were like that when she was born, and they were normal to her. This is hard. Hard, yes, but we knew beforehand what we were putting her through. I can only hope I know what I’m doing.