Blog 54 z...Appointments & children...
Things suddenly became quite hectic at the end of last
week whilst we tried to cram a lot into the remaining days of the holiday
period and then this week has been one of those times when all the appointments
come at once…I know I said I wanted to be busy but this is ridiculous!
The ‘Cutie-pie’ had a follow up appointment at the Podiatry
Clinic to check how his insoles are. I am always nervous about this particular
appointment…
He has needed support for the past 5 years due to some
kind of condition that makes his feet appear banana shaped and the muscles at
the back of his legs don’t grow as fast as he is growing which causes the awful
tightness and cramping of his legs.
As a little one everything was fine and then one day I
was watching him in the playground before school started and he appeared to be
limping…he actually had started to adapt his walking and running in accordance
to how his muscles were developing. I felt so guilty as he had complained of
pains in his legs but I’d said it was growing pains…mm typical response I
suppose! Then I said the cramp was due to not eating enough salt in his
diet…where the hell do I get these notions from? So after a few nights of
rubbing the backs of his legs I took him to the doctors to ask what could be
done for painful legs… then followed the usual waiting game and then
appointments and then finally a diagnosis and a referral to the Paediatric
Orthotist!
The ‘Hubby’ had to take him for an x-ray…bearing in mind
that he was only 8 years old at the time and rarely spoke a word to anyone
other than family; he had to endure sitting in the x-ray room by himself and
watched whilst the radiographer positioned his ankle, the back of his foot, the
heel etc. in order to get a
comprehensive x-ray of his sweet, little foot! All during the x-ray he said
nothing and was politeness itself when asked if he was okay…then the ‘Hubby’
and the ‘Cutie-pie’ had to wait to see the Consultant who pushed and poked and
said he would recommend some physiotherapy as there was nothing on the x-ray to
be concerned about.
“Is there anything you’d like to ask me young man?”
enquired the Consultant.
“Well…” answered the ‘Cutie-pie’… “I just wanted to know
why they x-rayed my right foot when it’s my left foot that bothers me…”
I have since tried to encourage him to always speak up
for himself in the vain attempt to avoid any further mishaps but he just kept
quiet for the most part and then he became adept at dropping both his parents
in the deep end with Consultants and Physiotherapists alike!
He had to follow the set of exercises that the Physiotherapist
sent home with him on a sheet…we performed these religiously until by some quirk
of fate I lost the damn sheet in amongst the recycling and had to encourage him
to do them from memory…of course at the next session at the hospital when asked
how was he getting on I said we performed the exercises each night but from
somewhere the ‘Cutie-pie’ found his voice and informed the physio that I had
lost the sheet and was making the exercises up! I felt my face redden when she
then suggested a new sheet for me and an extra copy for him that he had to keep
in his bedroom!
Over time the physio did work and the pain lessened…enter
the Consultant who advised specially fitted insoles for his shoes. The
‘Cutie-pie’ had his feet measured and squashed in foam and then a few weeks
later he had gel pads for his shoes. As his feet grew he was progressed onto
stiff, specially shaped insoles which were hard wearing and would support his
feet and aid his walking and running.
Excellent I hear you say…well the first set of insoles
were a great success…he wore them all the time in his school shoes and then
transferred them into his trainers. That’s where the problem lay. I put them
back into his school shoes the wrong way…I know, hard to believe isn’t it? But
there you have it…and of course when we went to the follow up appointment the
Consultant asked the ‘Cutie-pie’ to take his shoes off so that the insoles
could be checked for size and see how his feet were looking and feeling.
“Who put these in?” Asked the Consultant in an angry
tone.
“Oh my mum did”; replied the ‘Cutie-pie’.
“They are the wrong way round…”
“I know but you can’t argue with her…”
Please let the floor open up and swallow me…I know it’s
wrong to want a child to take the blame but I was so, so embarrassed.
“Well then I shall make a note that the new insoles are
marked Left and Right…for your mother.”
Ha well, could it get any worse…you know full well it
can! During another appointment I insisted that the ‘Hubby’ came with me. ‘The
Consultant wouldn’t remember the earlier problems …’ suggested the ‘Hubby’
confidently; but I was taking no chances and of course I was right to feel
apprehensive.
After the usual check up procedures and the affirmation
from us both that he performed his exercises and that we always had his feet
measured for his school shoes and that they were correctly fitted…the Consultant
looked sternly at us both…
“Could you explain why his trainers do not fit
correctly?”
“Don’t they, I never noticed,” answered the ‘Hubby’.
Dear God I wanted to curl up…what on earth was he talking
about…?
“Well look at them…there’s a huge gap at the back of this
one and this one has no space for his big toe…”
Dear God help me out of this I prayed… “Oh?” was all I
could say…
“Take them off again please and let’s have a closer
look.” He said sweetly to the ‘Cutie-pie’. Then looking sternly at us both he
produced the trainers close up so that we could see that the left one was a
size 5 and the right one was a size 7.
“Oh he must have picked one of his brother’s up by
mistake…” I offered weakly.
“No I didn’t,” said the ‘Cutie-pie’; “his don’t have the
blue stripe at the side.”
“One presumes you must have been given the wrong sizes by
the shop assistant,” ah yes that could have been our get out clause if only the
‘Cutie-pie’ hadn’t decided that now was the time to discover his inner
confidence…
“Oh no, we get my trainers from the supermarket, I showed
mum and she picked them off the rack…”
Dear Lord, hung out to dry by my sweetheart…
“I’d like to suggest that in order for your child to
benefit from this department that you ALWAYS check his shoe sizes and that you
ALWAYS ensure the correct insoles are in the correct shoes…” [Dear me he
remembered that and he must see 100’s of patients…]
So you know now why I was dreading this week’s check
up…not too bad except that it isn’t a good idea to say that you run around in
bare feet because mother doesn’t want the carpets to get dirty in reply to
“…and how are you getting on with the insoles during the summer break…” Of
course I was then informed that if he was not experiencing any problems when not wearing the insoles then this could
be a good thing…phew…and it would suggest that his muscles were stronger and
all was working well…yeay! I escaped practically unscathed and now will be
informed within the next two weeks of an appointment regarding larger insoles
AFTER he has had his feet measured for his new school shoes!
The ‘Cutie-pie’ just looked at me through his beautiful
long eyelashes and…kept quiet and smiled!
Funny how the innocence of children though can get you
into trouble…the ‘Cutie-pie’ has become an expert…
When he was an Infant pupil, say about 6 years old, he
began to look ‘chunky’ just one morning when he came down for breakfast in his
school uniform. Over a few days I kept looking at him as I couldn’t understand
how he was suddenly getting a bit bulky in his uniform. Then I received a call
from school to say that he was refusing to get changed for P.E. and that it
would be in the best interests of everyone if I could persuade him not to wear
his pyjamas to school. What?
That night when we got home I sat him down to ask about
the pyjamas…well of course that’s why he was so cuddly, nothing to do with a
growing spurt …the ‘Cutie-pie’ was too cold in the morning to get undressed so
he just put his school uniform on over his pyjamas…oh and by the way could I
get him some new black pumps for P.E.
as, according to the letter from his teacher that he then gave me, he
was struggling to get his pumps on his feet…well naturally I investigated. I
discovered that not only had he not been taking his pyjamas off, he had been
keeping his socks on too so that by the end of the week he had 5 pairs of socks
on…no wonder he was struggling!
It’s not just the ‘Cutie-pie’ though; the
‘Intelligent-one’ has his moments too…he had only been in school for the first half
term and brought me a letter home from the secretary. This was to inform me
that I owed school £28.00 outstanding school dinner money and that an appointment had been made for me to see the Headmaster. Sure that they had
made a mistake I popped into the school on the afternoon of the first day of
the new term to politely inform the secretary that as my son brings a packed
lunch to school everyday there was a mistake about the money…expecting some
form of apology for any embarrassment caused I was then ushered towards the
Headmaster’s office…a bit confused, I was made to feel like some kind of
criminal for not paying an outstanding balance. Hackles high and at the ready
for battle I was then informed that the ‘Intelligent one’ frequently stood in
the dinner queue and chose a hot lunch and sat with friends; without ever
bringing in any payment. How could this be? Whilst trying to convince the
Headmaster and the dinner lady and the secretary that they must be mistaken the
poor child was hauled out of class and stood in front of the adults whereby he
was to ‘confess’ to stealing a school dinner…
“But mummy I don’t always like what you pack…and I want
to sit with my friends…” was the reply to my request that he needed to tell everyone
that he didn’t have a school dinner because he had a packed lunch in his 'Thomas
The Tank Engine' butty box.
Red faced, shamed faced, furious at looking like a fool
[thank God I hadn’t sworn at the headmaster…!] I produced my cheque book and
duly wrote a cheque for the £28.00 only to be informed that he had actually had
another dinner that day and I owed a further £1.75…
That night I was discussing the whole situation with the
‘Hubby’ and that I had no idea what he was doing with the lunches that he
hadn’t eaten…only to be informed that when the ‘Hubby’ had collected him from
school they would sit in the traffic jam and the ‘Hubby’ would ask:
“Well son, what left overs have we got to eat today?” and
the ‘Intelligent-one’ would duly open his butty box and the pair shared the
goodies…
Ah well, that’s the menfolk in my household for you…
…by the way tomorrow I have the Optician’s with the
‘Cutie-pie’ and the ‘Intelligent-one’…wonder what trouble they’ll land me in
there…no doubt something like…”Oh yes we wear our glasses all the time as
instructed; but the mother makes us take them off if we are having our
photographs taken” and what could possibly go wrong at the Dentist at the end
of the week…most likely that I keep forgetting to buy the packets of Dental Floss for them all...
Blog 54 coming again soon…
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