We’re home — and for the first time in nearly six weeks, John does not have a runny nose, congestion, a cough. The antibiotics he’s on for his tonsillitis have zapped every alien germ in his body and he’s been feeling pretty good. This has translated in more eye contact, more words, more communicating. More hugs.
It started while we were in the hospital. Lying there for hours on end, he’d peek over at me through the rails and say “Hey!” Hey, I’d reply, how are you. “Hey!” he’d repeat, and pull me close. “Hug,” he’d say.
When the nurses came in to check his IV, he’d shout “Buh-bye!” and “Stroller?” hoping I’d wheel him out. When the doctors tried to examine his throat and listen to his chest, he’d protest: “Mommy’s car!” and then demand: “Stroller, buh-bye!”
For the first few days he would not eat. At 2 a.m. one night the requests started: “Applesauce?” After finishing that off, it was “Yogurt?”, “Cheerios?”, “Juice?”
Then one afternoon while he watched a DVD and I read the paper, he yelled “Hey!” I looked and he said “Diaper.” I said Diaper? “Diaper?!” he said again. Sure enough, he had soaked through to the sheets.
Yesterday morning he woke up dry and after giving him his juice, I noticed him standing a little funny so I asked if he had to go potty. “Potty,” he repeated and pulled me to the bathroom. I watched with amazement as he stood facing the toilet. We’re not there yet — he won’t yet go in the potty, but OMG!
I don’t know how much of all of this wonderful communicating has to do with not feeling crummy, but whoa, what a week.