On Wednesday of this week I had a moment of realization. I was almost taken aback by the vast contrast of my feelings from last week, to this week. This week was #bestever. I was basically jazzercising down the hallways (I’m really, really good at jazzercize btdubs). And then, I had an apostrophe (10 points to Gryffindor if you can name that movie) and l thought, it’s because so many people have been praying for you. It is obvious to me that this is the only explanation for my cheerful disposition going into this week, so thank you.
🎶Trying to get down, to the heart of the matter🎶
Okay, okay, Kasey, that’s great but what about Robbie? Well. Let. Me. Just. Tell. YOU. Robbie has progressed at a tremendous rate (duh, he’s the best). Wednesday was the FIRST day (what day? The first day! *insert emphatic cheering*) that I did not tube feed Robbie in 2.5 years. Why? BECAUSE HE EATS THE FOODS! Right? Crazy. So he’s still only getting about 80% of the calories that he needs but we are going to work on that by adding in higher-density foods to his diet (sausage, egg and cheese for breakfast every day) and including more food combinations. He has mastered the puréed texture and is currently working up to “junior” texture (think applesauce). He does well with the fruits in this category but still struggles a lot with the vegetables. But that’s just because most vegetables are gross, so, understandable. He is also up to 5.5 ounces of milk (right. like milk from a cow, you heard me) per meal. And I would be remiss if I didn’t include his thoughts on it (afterall, this is basically his biography). He found a small toy jug the other day and informed me that it was Jesus’ jug and that perhaps he had an extra so he just left that one in the toy room (reasonable assumption). Then, while watching him perform some sort of magical ritual he glanced my way and explained that he was turning milk into water. So two things, he’s basically a biblical scholar, and second, water continues to be the storybook love of his life. Sorry, I can’t help myself, back to the facts. They haven’t begun to test his capacity for self-feeding so either myself or the therapists continue to hold the spoon and cup for him. Self-feeding is a goal but alters the psychology of the whole thing quite a bit, not to mention he holds a spoon like you might hold a javelin, so unless we start requiring he kill anything he eats, we will have to work on that.
They also added in a fourth meal that he is to have at home. And so, on Wednesday, October 14th, Robbie sat at the table and ate his FIRST meal at home (this is why the title is plural, see?) Fairies flitted about, gnomes performed choreographed jigs, and I think even one angel traded in his ethereal trumpet for a jazzy sax routine. At that moment I hefted an enormous weight off of my shoulders and let out my longest breath in 3 years. This does not mean that the hardest parts are over, of course, but I don’t really care. Moments like these are meant to be celebrated, with toe-touches and deep, guttural cries of victory (Braveheart style, with painted faces and bare bums). Also, donuts. So this morning I ate a donut the size of my face. And I liked it. #dropthemic