Three Years Later

If I could have a conversation with Savanna, who has ASD (Autism), and she could magically understand things the way we understand them, just for this conversation, it might sound something like this:

 

Me:  Savanna, you can play with all the toys in the bins, not just dump them out and throw them.

Savanna:  What do you mean, the toys in the bins are not just for dumping on the floor?

Me:  (Silently operating a 6-12 month random baby toy in front of her, for the millionth time…)

Savanna:  Oh, I see! Can I try?

 

Me:  Savanna, not every hole and fabric loop is for inserting your finger. But it is okay if you do.

Savanna:  Daddy, I wish I could stop doing that, but I just can’t.

 

Me:  Savanna, the words I say aren’t just weird noises, they actually have meaning.  They can even be put together to form what we call sentences that convey thoughts, feelings, instructions, etc.

Savanna:  Oh, I just thought you just like to hear yourself make these noises.

 

Me:  Savanna, the food we serve you at the dinner table is actually for eating, not throwing.

Savanna:  Oh. Why didn’t you tell me?  Maybe I will try to eat some of these things.  Daddy, how come the other kids throw the food too?

Me:  Well,  … its complicated….

 

Savanna:  Daddy, you mean it is difficult to do your daily tasks when I insist that you hold me all the time? You say your back hurts, why didn’t you tell me?

Me:  Savanna, I tell you this everyday.

Savanna:  Oh? I never understood that before.

Me:  I know.

 

Savanna:  Daddy, why do you get so excited when I put a square shape into a square hole? It’s not that big of deal you know.

Me: Well, I think it is really great and I was actually trying to get you to do it again by showing positive praise.

Savanna: Oh? Sorry, I just didn’t want to do it again.

—————————————–

Savanna’s (special needs) Journey formally began December 19th, 2011 when she was diagnosed with a seizure disorder.  Her disorder took away her normal life by arresting development in every way.  A symptom of an abnormality in her brain, her disorder proved medically refractory.  At 18 months old, she underwent a left TPO resection (removal of ~70% of the left hemisphere of her brain) to mechanically control the seizures, which it has done.  It has given her a second chance at life; her best chance.  Three years later, here we sit.

savanna blog three years later-8I find my situation surreal today.  But it is very real.  Three years after it all began, I administered the final dose of her last medication.  What does the future hold for Savanna with regard to seizures? No one knows for certain.  She is nearly 21 months seizure free and not on medication, indicative of a long period of control in her future.

Three years later, I find myself learning how to teach in a whole new way.  I never thought I would know so much about physical therapy, occupational therapy, speech therapy, and ABA.  She is 39 months old, functioning at about a 2, maybe 2.5 year old level, far less with regard to expressive speech.  This sounds not so great, but my heart is filled with joy!  She makes strides everyday.

The power of prayer and His word have led us to this point.  We made faith-based, selfless decisions and accepted the risks and consequences in search of the best chance for Savanna to thrive.  God was holding our hands and leading us even when we couldn’t understand the path or the advice clearly.

While she is now considered “normal” by many, Savanna’s brain development is different from a typical child.  The way different parts of the brain work together is possibly different. These differences are difficult to measure, as is the effect of these differences on her ultimate outcome.

Yes she is “smart”!  She is learning in her own way, on her own schedule.

She is learning to speak!  It has taken nearly 2 years to get her to appropriately say simple words like Yes and No.  She loves the power in the word no, and it has become her standard response to a question before reconsidering then following her “no”…”yes”.  She has a mixed receptive/expressive speech disorder that when coupled with her cognitive delays makes communication very difficult at times.

I remember when Tristan, our oldest, was about 1 year old.  We would drive around and he would say “bus” when he saw a bus of any kind.  It was a very short time until he understood “yellow school bus”.  Savanna just started to say “bus” in the car when she sees one.  And often times, she only says “yewow (yellow)”.   She knows the golden arches well, and says “pway pwace” every time (unless we pass it on her blind side).  It is very reassuring feeling as her parent to hear this, as it means to me, she is learning.

I sat down to write this long-overdue post, and realized so much life had been lived since the last post. Maria and her daughter Luna visited from Norway for three months while they sought treatment for Luna’s epilepsy.  While they were here, my mind just paused.  Every thing just kind of slipped away and it has taken some time to remember all that transpired.  A few highlights…

She and Austin celebrated turning 3 recently.  On their birthday, Savanna decided to take us for a walk.  She took each of our hands and proceeded to pull us along. Rebecca and I were beside ourselves, as she had not ever done anything like that.  She said “Hi” to the camera when prompted. It was amazing.

She really enjoyed being part of making the cakes. She cracked her own eggs with very little help.  It just warms my heart seeing her understand opening a wrapped gift, not a simple concept I have learned.  Turning three meant she “graduated” ECI.  And should we continue with publicly funded help, it transfers to the public school system.  Her awareness of and participation in her environment is so dramatically different, it is difficult to compare to one year ago.

savanna blog three years later-30

savanna blog three years later-32

savanna blog three years later-33

Celebrating Halloween this year was a little different for her. She participated, a little.  But the experience was bit overwhelming, and she is always exhausted at the end of the week from the intense ABA programming.

savanna blog three years later-6

We went to the Second Annual Pediatric Epilepsy patient/caregiver reunion.  She was much more active this time.  Her neurosurgeon helped her put her shoes back on after exiting the bounce house. How cool is that?  I think he was a bit amazed how well she is doing, maybe not.  Definitely, it reinforced the decisions made in her case.  Some pictures and a link to a youtube video made by the hospital (I have short spot in it…)

 

savanna blog three years later-20

savanna blog three years later-21

Link to CMHH video of the 2nd annual pediatric epilepsy reunion. 

We supported Maria through Luna’s surgery and visited Maria in the hospital a day when Savanna’s school was closed.  Savanna walked all the way into the CMHH pediatric day surgery waiting area from garage 5.  She has never done that; I had to take a picture.

savanna blog three years later-7

We went to Galveston beach at the end of October, and she loved the water. It was still warm, and quite clear this day.  She enjoyed the waves, noticed the kites flying, and was interested in “helping” build a sand castle.  We love Houston!

savanna blog three years later-4

savanna blog three years later-5

She enjoyed Brandon’s birthday at Chuck-E-Cheese, especially the large indoor play structure.  We almost couldn’t get her out of that thing!

savanna blog three years later

These activities have all been more fun (for her and us) since starting ABA.  Her expressive language development has exploded.  She talks to us now.  In general, she can express her feelings in words.  I admit, we don’t always understand her approximations, but its a start right?  But for sure, she wants to talk; she can talk!

She has many words now, when just a few months ago she had none, no fault of the speech therapy she received for 24 months. She wasn’t ready then, simply put.  The therapists always said the information is going “in” and one day it will all come “out” in words.  They were right.

Rebecca recounts reading the ABA plan with Savanna’s “6 month goals” before she started ABA.  There were goals like “say 20 single syllable simple words” and “make 5 animal noises”.  She was scared that might not be possible in just 6 months time.  A miraculous 2 and 1/2 weeks later, Savanna was talking!  She’s blown past her 6 month goals, and we are convinced that she will be able to do anything she decides she wants to be able to do.  Amazing!

She puts 2-4 words together now appropriately without prompts. She is able to parrot many words we say, even if she doesn’t understand them. She struggles with certain phonetic sounds, such as the “k” sound, like in the word bike.  Her approximation isn’t even close on this one.  The speech therapist notices this and feels she will get it, but it is just not happening as quickly as the other sounds.

We believe the ABA has helped dissipate her OCD behaviors and it has certainly smoothed transitions between activities and people.  We are more cautious now of situations that can derail a “good mood.”  And during ABA (40 hours a week) she has 100% 1:1 supervision, which helps redirect her when she starts such behavior.

Sometimes we exploit the OCD behaviors at home, for example if she doesn’t want to get dressed.  You can almost always find a top or dress with a bow on it, (with a fabric loop), show her the loop with your finger in it, and she will usually be okay with wearing that outfit.  I am sure some out there would say this is a bad idea.  At this point, I am picking my battles.

Sometimes, this happens…

Suddenly she was very upset! What happened? What was wrong!  She demanded I hold her – or else meltdown. I went about my work (holding her) which is usually enough.

She refused to be happy.

She refused to use words.

She cried, then she screamed.

She was a snotty mess. I didn’t know what was wrong.

Finally, I figured out the pantry door was open and the light was on.  This bothered her terribly, but she did not want to go take care of it herself for some reason. So, 15 minutes of complete breakdown, for what?  I don’t know.

And, that’s the point, sometimes we just don’t know what is going on in her head.

She does eat without throwing (too much) these days, though her diet remains severely self-limited.  If you serve her fruit (except watermelon), she will protest, period.  If you are adamant she try it, you should be aware of imminent flying food.  I guess this is somewhat normal?

Oh those shape sorters.  She understands shape sorter toys these days.  But, conceptually does not understand shapes via their names.

These days, we work more on color matching.  We sort 2D and 3D objects, matching like items. We work on letter and number identification. All of these tasks start simple, with organized aligned rows of items.  But the goal is for Savanna to sort/match items from a random unorganized pile, with only minimal prompts.  She has done so well, so quickly, we now work on puzzles too – a much more complex challenge.

Her fine motor skills increase daily it seems.  She can thread a very small string though really small beads, or holes in a board.  She can cut paper with scissors with some help and prompting.  (wow! right?)

She can randomly draw with crayons/markers for a couple of minutes.  If you prompt enough, she can make horizontal, vertical lines, and circles.

If the other kids want to color, she too is interested.  I set up a space for her on the table, but she usually loses interest quickly. This situation is disappointing and frustrating to watch.

A character trait you cannot teach: Desire to Independently Learn.  Yep, she has that one!

It is glorious!  It is almost to a fault though as she refuses hand-over-hand assistance.

She has the ability to sit and focus for a long time with a therapist or with us as a parent.  But make no mistake, it is very hands on. You have to be right there to keep her on track.  The minute you think you can step away, well….

ABA has indicated she is ready for potty training.  They don’t want to wait since she has exhibited so much interest in using the bathroom.  We have seen this at home too, and have agreed to work with the ABA center to develop a routing for Savanna.  We are excited about this addition to her routine.

potty 3 potty 2 potty 1

She can play with her brothers for longer periods of time (without me!!) on a somewhat regular basis. She will do this when the activity is something she prefers.  She LOVES the trampoline and the swing set.

She loves her platform swing too, and this has become a staple in her sensory diet – every day. Not sure how our annual trip back to the VA and KY (where this won’t be available freely or otherwise) will unfold without this resource.

savanna blog three years later-11She can jump now! That’s right, leave the ground with both feet at the same time (and land appropriately)!  I know it sounds trivial, but this is very difficult with children with proprioceptive deficits or dysfunction.

Austin and Savanna play the “rib-bit” frog jumping game sometimes.  I think it is their own language, lol.  And she jumps! The trampoline is very helpful for developing her leg and core muscles. We also use the Sure Step SMO braces to help correct the pronation in her feet.  A recent gait analysis showed  significant pronation, poor symmetry, and wide gait indicative of low balance and tone in her core.

The scientific evidence shows we need to work diligently at correcting her gait before the age of 7, after which correction is more difficult.

She loves to get in the middle of the action with the boys.  When she is in a good mood, she is right there with them.  She is often the first one hurt and crying.  I generally push her back “into the octagon” and gently give the boys some additional operating parameters.  A pillow fight for example, is a great way to experience a lot of heavy sensory input.

savanna blog three years later-9

Here is a video clip of her swinging.  A few months ago, she could barely push the swing around and still hang on.  She is a bit tired here, but manages quite well.  Important to note is that she understands to get near the center of the platform to reduce the centrifugal force from spinning.  It is there she can comfortably sit and eat, or whatever (notice the chips sitting in the center).  She loves her swing!

This next clip is hilarious.  A good use of the physio ball (not found in the instructions!) It builds leg and foot strength, increases core strength, and increases balance and spatial awareness, all with a little fun.  The amount of input from the adult greatly changes the amount of input from the child.  You can plainly see the differences between the Austin and Savanna here.  The motor planning is happening for both, but the results with regard to timing, strength, and overall execution are vastly different.  Still, she has come so far! And I am proud!

Once again, they conspired, as they usually do on a rare quiet Sunday afternoon. We were busy cleaning around the house like a bumble bees and suddenly the eerie silence is softly broken by intense laughter from outside? Uh-oh.  They snatched the physio ball from the official place of storage, and managed to get it on the trampoline.  Yeah, that’s right, as if the trampoline itself wasn’t enough.

 

I would like to say “Thank you” to all those who have helped us with Savanna’s care. Without your input, your guidance, and your wisdom, Savanna would not be where she is today.

Dr. Gretchen Von Allmen, Dr. Mary Zupance, Dr. Nitin Tandon, Tammi Rainwater with MHMRA, George Michel with MHMRA, Nikki Dupont with Reach Healthcare TCG, Dana and Jennifer at The Speech Emporium in Cypress, Dr. Allison Arthur with TCPA, and all the therapists at Tangible Difference Learning Center in Katy.  To our parents and family, Thank You for supporting us.

Thank you for your interest in helping Savanna; helping us as a family.  We greatly appreciate it.

Have a Blessed Christmas,

-Liningers

Dare to Dream

1 year, 4 months and 7 days since the completion of Savanna’s TPO resection for seizure control.

Savanna recently had an MRI to examine the surgical site in her brain and a 23 hour VEEG to observe and characterize events and behaviors for a 12-month post-surgical follow-up meeting with her neurologist.

Happy! Happy Happy!!

Happy! Happy!! Happy!!!

The MRI impression is that the surgical site appears unchanged from the imaging results at 6 months post-op. No signs of problems related to the surgery or anything additional elsewhere in her brain. The EEG revealed that concerning behaviors were not related to epileptic activity.

Just playing around during my EEG.

Just playing around during my EEG.

Yeah, I have done this before. The suitcase was filled with favorite toys and foods.

Yeah, I have done this before…

MRI day. Not happy camper.

MRI day. Not a happy camper.

This means she is what we call seizure free (SF in the internet world).  In the medical community, Savanna’s outcome is still Class 1a on the Engel scale. This is as good as it gets in terms of seizure control.  Awesome!

The Shape Sorter. Again. Again. And, again.

The Shape Sorter. Again. Again. And, again.

The Shape Sorter. A must for a toddler during a 23 hour EEG.

The Shape Sorter. A must for a toddler during a 23 hour EEG.

Well, what does this mean in her everyday life?

It means the power of prayer is real. I believe God works through us all. While He allowed Savanna’s suffering, He answered collective prayer through actions of her doctors inspired to empower their God-given intelligence and ability.

It means we are witnessing development which we might not have otherwise.

I moved the stool myself, and turned on the light!

I moved the stool myself, and turned on the light!

It means we are witnessing His divine power as Savanna climbs out of the valley of global sensory reintegration created from forced normalization of her brain activity and subsequent reorganization of the neural network. Savanna thankfully exhibits a persistence and perseverance that you cannot teach. At times, she wants to learn; she wants to show us things; she wants to exist in our world. This is when the camera comes out, because we knew it was in there and we are so happy to see it come out. And then at other times, it is just difficult. She disconnects, and seems to wonder aimlessly through her own world on a path I just cannot see or understand.

For the first time…

For the first time, she is eating and drinking on her own in a manner that is adequate to allow her to thrive.  Six weeks ago we removed the feeding tube. Savanna is now 100% orally fed. She is able to try food in larger quantities and react to the textures, smells, and tastes. For the first time, I have been able to really hone in on how her diet affects her mood and behavior.

For the first time, we are observing fine and gross motor skills that are close to the low-end of normal. If you were to see her on a playground, you would not immediately see a difference between her and other children her age. But, it is there, lurking just beneath the surface of awareness for not only the casual observer, but also for her. It is significant, and it is serious. Sometimes these complex deficits rear their ugly head with an unusually awkward fall, or sudden, invisible playtime-ending problem. In general, I am highly in-tune with Savanna and plan accordingly. But recently, for the first time, she is often perceived equal in ability to her twin brother.

For the first time, we are witnessing dramatic acceleration in her receptive communication. (This is where she understands simple instructions or auditory communication.) Her cognition is improving daily, which allows learning new sign language at a quicker pace. At this point, the communication is her biggest barrier to a happy life (for us too!).

For the first time, we are seeing times of appropriate social interaction with her siblings. She exhibits persistence worthy of saying she is ambitious in catching up developmentally. She has moments of appropriate empathetic reactions to others. At times she is even deliberately mischievous, just like a normal 2 year-old! I see her interacting with her twin brother like I have not in the past. They sneak out together after breakfast to get on the trampoline, or play crazy games of laughing out loud and running from wall to wall in the house. It is so awesome to see knowing what I know, and something I was beginning not to expect at all.

A short video clip of Austin and Savanna on the trampoline… Austin can open the door, so they conspired, snuck out unseen. Savanna’s compulsion with closing doors meant, I didn’t immediately notice they had left! Then, I saw them. I saw playing. I heard laughter. I felt the need to start the camera.

 

We recently went on our summer pilgrimage to the homeland (KY and VA). This has normally been quite a trip for us, slathered with worry (from me anyway) and hampered with impediments related to Savanna’s condition.

For the first time, I did not pack a suitcase full of DME (durable medical equipment),  or supplies related to tube feeding. I did not pack a duffel bag full of medication, most for “What if?” scenarios.

Extra Goldfish, Pringles, and apple juice replaced cases of enteral formula (not exactly a nutritional even trade, but I will take it!) I did not pack back-up stuff for back-up stuff.  I took 2 oral syringes, a bottle of prescribed medication, and some rescue medication for good measure. For the first time, I did not install the roof box to carry all the extra stuff. It actually seemed kind of easy and normal travelling on an insanely long 3400 mile road trip.

Savanna had many great periods and days on the above mentioned “vacation”. She did have a few bad days too. While most want to see her as ‘normal’, this is something I just would never mention about our other kids knowing what I know now. No, she didn’t seize, but once we lose the happy place, it sometimes is difficult to get it back in the same day. On those days, all the best laid plans start to boil down to “Who is going to hold Savanna?” I know it sounds simple, callus even to the reader/parent who might think it is not a big deal – holding a child. And to those readers, you are right – I am whining.  But, I think the analysis and commentary are relative.

Rebecca and I are both still somehow in ok  shape after this journey. We are experiencing the physical woes all too familiar to parents of special needs children. Holding Savanna is not difficult per se`.  Holding Savanna for extended periods standing up, moving around, trying to complete the normal tasks of life, all while cantilevering away to balance her (as she naturally leans away instead of into us) is a different ball game altogether. Our backs are paying the price, and we are more conscious now, giving each other time to workout regularly. We find the workout routine is less about vanity or leisure, but more about necessity to build muscle to heal and mitigate current problems and perhaps delay further injury.

Here is a very short clip of her on the tube on the lake.

 

 

Do we dare let ourselves dream about what might be for Savanna? Before we drift off into never-never land, I would like to share some other “firsts” during this last few months.

For the first time, I can see the emotional derailment and predict the ensuing behavioral train wreck with good precision and fair accuracy. More clear now are the signs of disengagement from her environment. She loses all interest in things right in front of her. She shows no interest in many items that typically soothe her, except a very specific blanket that has a magical calming effect. She will not just want to be held, she will demand to be held. And if you can’t (or won’t), the path to the train wreck begins.

The path has stages and factors that affect how quickly you arrive at your destination, which is the behavioral train wreck or urban term “meltdown”. She will whine first, that kind of “I’m not happy whine…”  The whine becomes a cry. This process can take while, but we are learning it can also happen quite quickly.

The train has derailed at this point. I have learned it possible to avoid the worst outcome if I intervene appropriately.

The cry leads to stumbling or stammering like a drunk all while dragging her blanket. She will either 1) run into to something like a cabinet corner, wall corner, or door jamb on her right side (where the dense hemianopsia affects her) or 2) fall down hard by tripping on the blanket or something in the sea of ‘things’ on our floor that seems omnipresent. This leads to the scream of “Hold me now!“ and that of “Damn that hurt!”

By this point, I have modified my plans for the day somewhat, and am holding her (sitting if possible).

It is difficult to recover from this series of events. I try to push through some days and it ends up generally alright. But, sometimes it doesn’t go so well.  Sometimes this process takes 5 minutes. And, other times 5 hours. It really depends on things I am not knowledgeable about yet – or I would have addressed them intelligently.

At times I witness her eye deviate to the right (opposite what was observed before the resection) and this tempers my elation about her future. Diagnostics (mentioned in the beginning) have indicated nothing abnormal about these behaviors, but it is troubling as a parent given the history.

I joined the support group that our epilepsy program sponsors and attended meetings for the last few months. If you want a dose of reality as a parent in my shoes, this is the prescription. This group has been a great find though, as I learn more each time I attend.

For the first time, Savanna was evaluated independently (without me present) for ABA therapy, ST, and OT through an ABA provider locally here in Houston. ABA is Applied Behavior Analysis, and a method of intervention and therapy for those suffering the symptoms of ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder). It sounds weird, but I liked it and I disliked it all at the same time. I knew she would struggle with new people and new activities. But, I also knew it would be a very good judge of where she is functioning with respect to interacting with the public.

The Preschool Language Scale (#5) and Functional Communication (Revised)  Profile toolkits measured Savanna’s communication abilites, and resulted in a mixed scores (all pretty low) higher/lower for receptive/expressive communication respectively.  This agreed with the evaluation results done by ECI at 32 months. The Verbal Behavior Milestones Assessment and Placement Program toolkit showed the way for an ABA therapy plan, recommending 35 hours per week of this type of therapy. OT skills measured using the The Peabody Developmental Motor Scales where she qualified for applying the Beery-Buktenica Visual Motor Integration subset revealed a score just a tick below normal in one category but, quite low in another. A calculated quotient score result was “poor”.

I received the reports in the mail and was not surprised at their conclusions, I was disappointed though, I have to admit. I interpret their conclusions with caution though, as none of the therapists were familiar with Savanna. But, this was a first: Savanna on her own for about 3 hours with people she had never met, doing things perhaps she may not have done in “just that way”, and no train wrecks. It was a good experience overall. (Thankfully, they were all familiar with dealing with kids with such challenges.)

Overall, this news about seizure freedom along with critical thought about our faith precipitates a giant sigh of relief. It allows moments where we take a deep breath and absorb the joys of life. Her experiences, our experiences, so early in Savanna’s life make witnessing her achievements that much sweeter.

Finally, we said goodbye to Ruth, our Au Pair from Australia. She was a big help with the kids. Maybe one day we will go down under for vacation and pay her a visit. May God Bless you, Ruth.

Ruth, our Au Pair from down under, has returned to the outback. She was so much fun, and we miss her a lot.

Ruth, our Au Pair from down under, has returned to the outback. She was so much fun, and we miss her a lot.

-dad

 

A Message from Mom: Dear Dr. Von Allmen…

First a little context….

We set out on our trip to Kentucky and Virginia for Christmas early, so Rebecca could squeeze in a work trip to Kettering, OH – which meant we would be compensated for traveling.  A day after we arrived in Louisville, she left on her business trip.  Scheduled to return on the 18th, she called me to tell me she leaving at 12:30 pm.

I got a call around 5:30 pm from her saying she was now just leaving.  I was frustrated.  I was sick.  Savanna was sick.  Tristan was sick.  It was becoming unpleasant as Savanna was a complete handful.   We all lived through it-

A few weeks later back home in the routine, she sends me an email with a response to a letter she wrote to Savanna’s doctor.  The timestamp was 3:28 pm on the 18th of December.  But she told me at 12:30 she was on the road?  Something must have happened in Kettering that kept her there but also allowed her the time to compose such a beautiful letter.  She never mentioned to me that she sent a letter.  I sent one too, but not nearly as articulate (sorry GVA!)  Rebecca rarely has time to contribute to the blog directly and this wonderful piece deserves sharing.

It captures her thoughts and feelings at this time of the year.  I completely agree with her expressed feelings about Savanna’s treatment, the regard for her doctor, and the wish to help others.   I might have a wider field of view with regard to ‘how she is doing’ than Rebecca, but that is just me.  More on this in a future post…

…………………….

Dear Dr. Von Allmen,

I want to thank you with all my heart for the amazing care you have given Savanna (as well as me & Ken) through our journey.  When her spasms began, I was afraid to even dream that she might be one of the rare “lucky ones” who could be spared from a lifetime of seizures & the many associated challenges through a miracle surgery.  I prayed like I’ve never prayed in my life for God to guide us and give us the strength and energy we needed to survive and care for her.  I know in my soul that he led us to you.  The confluence of factors that had to come together for us to move to Houston, for Savanna to get the right diagnosis and treatment as quickly and effectively as she did could only have come by His hand.  Why she (we) were found worthy, I will never know.

I have so much admiration and respect for you, as a mother, as a woman, as a doctor, and as a bold entrepreneur in your field.  You saved Savanna’s life, her quality of life, and in doing so, mine as well.

She’s doing amazing.  We traveled to Louisville, KY for Christmas, and it’s pleasantly reassuring to see her go through the common childhood illnesses of Strep throat, ear infections, and the like.

She’s happy.  She’s healthy.  She teases us by walking and looking back over her shoulder to make sure we are watching / following her.  She dances and shakes her booty on request.  She waves and blows kisses.  She plays cars with Austin, and wrestles with Brandon.  She giggles when thrown in the air or on the couch.  She runs and giggles from “I’m gonna get you” when I chase her and eventually give her zerberts on her belly.  She’s putting things into containers & taking them out.  She’s starting to show an interest in books with a few torn pages as casualties.  She’s social and likes to explore and meet new people.  She snuggles.  She climbs up and down the stairs.  She’s starting to make more sounds in addition to “mama & baba”.  She’s starting to use more inflection, and saying pa pa, da da, …  She’s starting to do puzzles.  She’s graduated from AFOs to less intrusive orthotics.  Ken feels good enough about her progress that he is talking about possibly going back to work next year, which will allow me to possibly cut back to 20 hours / week, down from way too many hours.

None of this would have happened without you, your dedication, your training, and your willingness to aggressively treat her.

Savanna was first diagnosed on 12/19/11.  We spent that Christmas Eve & most of Christmas Day in the hospital before Ken broke her out.  It was hard to hear “Merry Christmas” that year.  My dad wished us a “Blessed Christmas”, and we found that to be more appropriate.

If you have anyone going through a similar situation that needs someone to speak with, especially at Christmas time, please provide them with my phone number.

Have a Wonderful, Merry, and Blessed Christmas with your precious family.  If you ever, ever wonder between long hours or thankless tasks, if what you’re doing is worth it, know this, it absolutely is, and I’m so grateful to you, Dr. Tandon, and your entire team for what you’ve done for us.

Rebecca