Today we spent the day at Children's Hospital for random, routine appointments. We're still debating long and hard over what to do about Micah's sleep apnea, and have made the doctor very, very happy by finally (FINALLY) agreeing to try a CPAP machine for Micah. He has been surprising us all around with things that we never thought he'd tolerate, and doing it all like a boss, so I figure it won't hurt anything to try. Best case scenario is that he never suffers from apnea again and can just sleep through the night peacefully and wake rested. Wouldn't that be nice?
It was also determined that the left ear tube was out. Yes, indeed, the right one was definitely out. I swear, we get the worst doctors in the ENT department every time we're there. We changed to our local ENT partly because the 90 minute drive to Children's every 6 weeks isn't fun, but mostly because we weren't all that happy with the Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde routine our former ENT had going on. This time we're seeing another doc, and he can't seem to get his act together, either. After telling us that the left tube was out after looking in his left ear, he then insisted the remainder of the appointment that it was the right one. Both Sam and I questioned that, and not only was he slightly offended that we'd question it, but was quite adamant that he was right. It's not a huge deal since they'll both be replaced anyway. It's just weird. And even weirder is the fact that he was nice to me today. Normally he kind of treats me like I'm "just the mom," and I should be talked down to. (The man clearly does not have children of his own, otherwise he'd know that ONE NEVER MESSES WITH MAMA BEAR.) Today, however, he treated me almost like an equal. I am convinced it was because there was a man sitting beside me.
I'm not a fan of doctors in the Children's ENT department. I'm just not. They are extremely skilled in their profession, but have no clue how to interact with parents of the children they are seeing.
After we had a fun time at the ENT, we walked across the hall to the dental department. Micah is 10 years old and has lost exactly 4 teeth. The local dentist, whom we love dearly, suggested that maybe some baby teeth be pulled to make room for the big teeth to come in. We figured that having this done in conjunction with ear tubes would be optimal, so we needed to be seen by Children's dental to get a doctor on board with this.
The first thing they did was take x-rays to determine how far along his big teeth are. If they're ready to erupt, then babies would definitely need pulled. Shockingly, we found out that Micah is missing some of his big teeth. Not "they're just not ready to come in yet," they're missing. As in, NOT THERE. AT ALL. We were assured that this is completely normal for kids with DS. Something vaguely rang a bell of remembrance of reading that when Micah was a baby. So the past ten years when I've said I won't make a huge battle of Micah brushing his teeth (sensory issues, n'at) because they were baby teeth and would just fall out anyway? Totally screwed. Those baby teeth now need to stay in as long as they possibly can. Another tally for Worst Mom Ever. The good news is, however, that he will not need any extractions at this time.
The even better news is that he had the x-rays done. They did the panoramic, where you bite a tiny stick and a large machine spins around your head. I was so proud of the guy for just complying, and then they said, "alright, everyone out of the room." I knew that was a bad idea, but am a compliant kind of person. I hesitated, went back, started toward the door again, looked back at my baby, and started to say, "he won't stay here alone," when he decided that he was not staying there alone. Once the machine started moving, it freaked him out. He wanted nothing to do with it. Ever. Again. And yet, he did. He went back voluntarily (after much fussing and protest) and I held his hands and counted with him, and we have gorgeous photos of his dentitia.
Such a proud moment.
And then we celebrated at Primanti's, because when in the 'Burgh, you eat like a Burgher.
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