Monday, January 12, 2009
A Picture in the Dark
I took a picture of Colin last night. It was midnight and he was sleeping. If you were me you would have taken a picture too. Especially if it was your son. Colin was 6 months old when we moved to Colorado. Within a year he started sleeping with his mouth open. During an annual check-up the pediatrician mentioned that his adenoids were swollen. "If they're still swollen when he's 8 we'll get them removed," she said. I thought nothing more about it. Sounded fine to me. I never thought to ask why they were swollen. In the blink of an eye Colin turned 8. It was last December. His birthday was 6 months after he was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes. This momentous occasion came right in the middle of our horror story. His brother was in the hospital learning to walk again. His sister was complaining of headaches and dizziness. Our lives were beginning to crumble. It took a few months to schedule his surgery as it was clear his adenoids remained swollen and breathing at night was labored. The day before surgery I cancelled. He was sick with diarrhea. I was relieved. His blood sugars had been erratic. His head was constantly throbbing and he was often doubled over with abdominal pain. Fast forward to November. I scheduled the surgery again. This time with a little more intent and knowledge. Adenoids swell in response to a virus, bacteria, or fungus. There was no doubt about Colin's. The ENT dismissed me when I suggested the mold as the source but I gave her our timeline anyway. We scheduled his surgery for December 15th. I was looking for any relief for him of any kind and even though he was still quite sick I imagined him breathing at night through his nose. That picture kept me going. Two weeks before surgery I took Colin and Reagan to see Dr. Gray in Arizona. It was my first question. "He's scheduled for adenoid surgery. What do you think?", I asked. He paused for a moment. He had been checking his left ear. "Let's wait", he said. "If we don't see improvement in a few months we'll re-consider." Good enough for me. I was relieved. We came back to Monument for only a week and here we are 5 weeks later. We've been on the full treatment for a week now. I say full treatment because I had missed something important until 7 days ago. Guaifenesin. It's an expectorant. Colin's nose has been running constantly since I added it. I bought him his own box of tissues. "Don't sniff it back up," I kept repeating. I learned from our chiropractor how important it is to release the mucus when your body is de-toxing. This is the background for the picture. It was 11:30 last night. (I keep Colin close by me since his blood sugars often drop in the middle of the night.) Something sounded different. It was his breathing. I turned on a light and there it was. His mouth was closed. Just as I had imagined.