These Feet Were Made for Walkin'

But we just haven't gotten there yet. Mostly because Oli's cute little feet are clubbed, which means they point inward, rather than lay flat at a 90 degree angle. We have gone through months and months of casting, the most recent round of which has been going on since January. When we started in January, we acknowledged that we were trying casting again instead of using invasive procedures, since Oli is still growing and that could complicate the results of some of the possible procedures (like inserting a rod in the ankle to keep it in the right position).

It turns out that Oli has some stubborn feet, and the orthopedist decided that tendon release surgery may be the answer. You may remember that we did this once in 12/07, and it didn't do much good. When we initially started casting in January, the ortho said that there was so much scar tissue that another surgery wasn't a good option. But I guess he changed his mind...

So Oli goes in for surgery on March 27. We thought it would take months to get on the surgery schedule, but we are going in a week and a half! The good thing about the timing is that he should be out of casts (which he has to wear for 6-8 weeks for recovery) in time for summer. These feet were made for swimmin, too...

False Alarm (aka Mom is Crazy)

Do my eyes look crossed to you?

This picture is what happens when mommy tries to diagnose Oliver by sending his picture to other people and asking what they think. For the record, this picture does not show is eyes with the "crossed" look that had me in a panic.


So, anyone who knows me knows that I have some neurotic tendencies.

Add to those tendencies a medically "needy" baby, and you have a recipe for disaster. Let me pat myself on the back and say that I have done phenomenally well over the last year and a half in terms of not over-reacting to too many issues and rushing Oliver off to the neurosurgeon at the slightest bit of crankiness. Even the never-diagnosed "seizures" of last summer were acknowledged by the neurologist as something unusual to see, even though they did not track as anything significant on the EEG. But the idea of possible hydrocephalus hanging over my head (or, more accurately, Oliver's head) is something that weighs on me daily.

Last Sunday, I could swear that I saw Oliver's right eyeball (not sure of the medical term) sort of straying into the center. It was subtle, but there were two or three distinct times that I thought I caught it. But I couldn't swear to anything. While Tim didn't really see that, he did think that Oliver had an "unfocused and vacant" look to his eyes that day. We let it go for a day or two, but a couple of times I thought I saw this eye straying. Then on Tuesday he threw up. It was not full-on puking but was "projectile something" coming from his mouth. Both symptoms (eyes and vomit) can be signs of hydrocephalus. So I pulled the alarm and called the neurosurgeon.

We typically deal with a nurse practitioner to the neurosurgeon at CHOP. The entire office operates under the premise of treating the kid, not the "film" (MRI, scan, etc.). So even though we know Oliver has a significant amount of fluid in his little head, we don't take action (ie shunt) until he shows signs of pressure. I think that this has worked out well so far; other doctors may have shunted him by now, and he is currently progressing fine without one. However, now we were dealing with signs of pressure. But the NP wasn't convinced that they were actually signs, so she told me to hold off and watch him. I wasn't very happy, but since I couldn't swear that his eyes were crossing, and it was more spit up than vomit, I complied.

We did take Oliver to the eye docotor to check for pappiladema, or pressure on the optic nerve. This is another, more concrete, tell sign of pressure. The doctor looked him over pretty well, and said that while he has a "cross eyed look," Oliver's eyes are not crossing. Further, there was no evidence of pappiladema. Of course, he did call Oliver "she" for the second half of the appointment, so I'm not sure how accurate the exam was. We took Oliver back home, very relieved and a little sheepish.

So a crisis averted. It feels good, even though I feel like I've slipped down a bit in crediblity. And now today Oliver is cranky and I can swear that he is not crawling as well as he normally does. Could something be wrong? Or am I just crazy? Luckily, I'm fairly certain it's the latter.