From what I can tell most people I know fall into one of two categories during this difficult time. They are either totally overwhelmed with both parents working full-time jobs and trying to get their children through constantly evolving e-learning schedules to fill out the rest of the school year, or they are bored. Now, if you are bored there’s clearly a TON of things to do according to my Facebook feed, my Instagram scrolling, the onslaught of “helpful” emails or links sent by friends to be sure that I don’t miss the Indigo Girls broadcasting live or that I’m taking advantage of the overwhelming amount of online classes I can take right now brought to you by everyone from Lin Manuel-Miranda to the mom I knew from preschool up all hours into the night making face masks. There is so much noise coming at us all at once that I regularly want to put my hands over my ears and start chanting, “la, la, la, la, la” just to block it all out. I mean, have I hit my quota on Zoom happy hours or Zoom double dates? Am I FaceTiming my friends enough to keep up the sanity? Did I ever take that virtual tour of the Louvre? And why oh why aren’t I acting like the creative I claim to be and pushing out a ridiculous amount of heartfelt and groundbreaking content since I don’t have any jobs coming in, which means that as the breadwinner for my family I’m barely scoring croutons?
But we are lucky. We have one 8-year-old at home who isn’t accustomed to his freedom like those teenagers clawing at their front doors. We have two parents, one with a part-time job with flexible hours and the other who has enough personal work to keep her occupied but definitely not employed. We have a dog who demands to be walked five times a day. We have family close by who we can see even if they sit in their car and we stand on the sidewalk to visit (this is oddly fulfilling…even in the rain). Aleck is a total technology junkie, so Zoom meetings, Google Classroom, online learning, it’s his dream come true. Sox, our pup, has become a replacement sibling for him and another outlet for downtime. Cuddles with Sox on his bed are just about the best reward for finishing his work early.
We know there are families out there putting themselves at risk every day, with kids at home, and sometimes a spouse who is also working full time which makes this situation perfectly unmanageable and draining on all fronts. Please know that we are thinking of you and that not once, not for a second, are we complaining about all that we are missing being stuck at home. I don’t think I will ever look at another healthcare worker in the same way. Thank you for continuing to turn your lives completely upside down for us all.
About a month ago, right after my last post, we decided to really sit down and address Aleck’s complaining about walking (you can read and see the video here). Craig examined the bottom and sides of his feet since he was constantly complaining about them. Turns out, after a day of walking, they were all red. Lightbulb. “Aleck,” I began, “are you putting all of your weight on the sides of your feet to keep yourself upright?” He shrugged his shoulders. “Do you know that your legs are strong enough to hold you up now?” Another non-committal shrug. “Aleck, are you afraid that your legs can’t hold you up anymore and that you are going to fall again?” This time, a definite nod in agreement. To protect his repairing femur (click here if you missed this story), Aleck was putting all of his weight on the sides of his feet, keeping them curled up underneath him. They were bearing the brunt of his body weight and therefore, they were hurting. I continued, “Aleck, your legs are strong. Your femur is healed. They can hold you, I promise. Now, repeat after me, ‘my legs are strong'” and we began chanting it together.
The next day was a whole other Aleck. No more screaming in the morning, no more complaining, no more tears. As I helped him out of bed in the morning we said it together, “my legs are strong” making our way to the bathroom, making our way to the living room. Now he’s doing great. There is absolutely no more complaining of pain anywhere. He can walk about a block before he starts to moan, so we take the chair along with Sox, once a day, and after we’ve reached almost a block, he sits in his chair. Sometimes he likes to use his chair as a walker, pushing it up the street. At home he can go to the bathroom by himself again, he can get in and out of his chair at the table again, and he can even jump up and down with excitement in the middle of the kitchen again. It’s made our shelter-in-place a lot more manageable for all of us. My step count on my Fitbit is down a few notches and I’m just fine with it.
I am concerned with his gait, or maybe that’s terrified, we both are really. His hips are tight so he’s turning that right leg out again which is making me mental. We correct him constantly and I’ve sent the videos to his physical therapists, so I’m waiting to see what they say. When he reads to himself during the day we put him on the floor on his tummy to help get a stretch in those hips, and he’s really cooperative about it. But he gets frustrated with our constant prompting and we get frustrated thinking about all we’ve been through to help his walking, to give him more stability, and to give him the best pair of legs the kid can stand on. Unfortunately, we can’t hide the traces of fear and panic in our voices when we say, “turn that right foot forward Aleck.” After a few heart to hearts he understands that it’s not about telling him he’s doing something wrong, rather it’s about us trying to avoid yet another painful surgery in his future because if it was up to me, he’d never have another surgery on legs ever again. Life is too short to choose to “shelter-in-place” if we don’t have to.
Videos of Aleck Walking!