Nights Winters Years

Carolyn and I try to tell real-life stories to John. He loves stories of all kinds, and we want to intersperse the fairy tales and childrens books with a little bit of family history.

Carolyn was upstairs putting Emmalee down for a nap when I started to tell John stories about some of my Thanksgiving memories.

I began, "When I was a little boy, I would go with Aunt Carrie, Aunt Annie, and Gramma D every Thanksgiving to Great Gramma Emma's house."

He stopped me: "Where is her house? I want to go. I want to see her."

I was completely blindsided. Carolyn and I have told stories of her father and my grandmother before, and he's always listened with interest, but he's always understood that these people "aren't around any more."

Tears welled up in my eyes immediately, and a lump developed in my throat.

"We can't go to see her, John."

"Why not?"

"Great Gramma Emma died. She's in heaven now with Jesus."

He put his head down, and thought seriously for what, in John terms, was a long time. He was pondering what I had said.

"But I want to see her."

"We will," I said. "When we get to heaven, she will be there waiting for us."

"But I want to see her now"

"We can't. But we have pictures, and we have stories and memories."

"I want to see her house"

"We can't do that either."

Later that day, he told Grandma Karen that he was afraid that Great Gramma Emma would not be able to find us when we got to Heaven. She reassured him that we would be able to find each other when that time comes.

He's still pondering that huge, adult concept of death and what comes after. He's not hurting -- the loss is too far removed from him to cause him pain. But he's puzzled, and trying to understand.

The questions of a child very quickly point out the essence of our faith. In the adult mind, there are many thick layers sitting atop it. There are esoteric debates over terminology. There is emotional baggage. There are memories, hurts, dogmas, wishes, points of contention, confusion.

But explain it to a child, and the heart of the matter is very clear.

John Update

We spent 6 hours at Riley Children's Hospital on Saturday -- Carolyn, John and I -- because John's abdominal pain had still not been diagnosed, and because now he had a fever. His cardiologist had warned against complacency with unexplained fevers; risk of an infection traveling to the heart is still elevated. Our family doctor's office had referred us to Riley Emergency on Saturday afternoon. The doctor at the family practice wanted a CAT scan of his abdomen looking for "growths" or tumors.

Karen watched Emmalee while the rest of us went to Riley. Carolyn and I were pretty sick while driving to Riley. It was such a heart-sickening sense of deja vu.

But, thankfully, we emerged 6 hours later feeling better. It was a rough ordeal for John -- another blood draw, another X-Ray ... but we at last had some answers. Big sigh of relief. And a bit of a chuckle and shaking of the head in disbelief.

As it turns out, John was just feeling poopy. Did you know -- preschoolers can get constipated?

With John's gastroenteritis (stomach flu) in March, and his sinus infection, he was on various medicines over the past couple of months. These medicines, and the original stomach flu itself, messed up his system. It disturbed the normal flow, shall we say. An adult can articulate, and
even diagnose, the problem. Not so a small child.

How could we go this long without knowing it? Because he continued to go to the bathroom -- #1 and #2 -- every day. Did you know that was humanly possible -- to be stopped up and still go? Apparently it fooled the doctors at our family practice. It took an abdominal X-Ray to reveal the cause.

I was sure I would see the black-and-white image of some ingested toy causing all this problem. A Robin Hood action figure firmly wedged in the appendix. Something like that. But no, just a backlog.

Treatable. Unthreatening. Uncomfortable, but mundane. Whew, big sigh of relief. Thanks for all who showed their concern for John. Hopefully he's on the road to feeling better.

It's Hard To Make A Stand

John likes music. He's been enjoying a Sheryl Crow CD lately. One of the
songs on it has the repeated line: "It's hard to make a stand..."

John was cutting out comics from the Sunday paper, just for fun, right
before bed last night.

The CD ends, and Carolyn says, "John, it's bed time."

He looks at her. "No! It's cutting time!"

She persuades him to go upstairs to his room. Once there, he starts to
play with toys instead of getting ready for bed.

Carolyn again chides him, this time to the tune of the Sheyrl Crow song.
It has the same number of syllables: "It's time to go to bed..." to the
tune of "It's hard to make a stand..."

He looks at her, and counters, in the same tune:

"It's time to play with toys..."

John Update

Not much of an update, but such as I have I will give thee.

The symptoms continue. They are not constant, but he does have them at least once a day. He's not unhappy or out of sorts.

The blood tests all came back normal. Carolyn is going to try to get him in to see the doctor today for a hernia check, and for a urinalysis.

We will keep you posted.

John Update (Stomach Pain)

Here's the news on John's health.

Today's News:

We're taking John to get some tests run at the Hospital tomorrow. He has not really been his energetic self since he had his bout with stomach flu in March.

Periodically he has complained of stomach pain. >From time to time he says "I don't feel good." We find him putting his head down for a brief break while at play. Even at his swimming lessons he made his way to the side of the pool and put his head down.

Lately, he has even grimaced while telling us his stomach hurt. And, he says, his back hurts. He complained of his chest hurting right after the flu, and the doctor thought he heard some bronchitis. But by now he has completed a 15 day course of antibiotics, and has no sign of bronchitis or upper respiratory infection.

When he complained of his tummy and chest hurting, he was checked for Mono, and the accompanying enlarged spleen. Because his dad was diagnosed with it recently; it was considered a possibility fhat these mysterious abdominal complaints were related to Mono. But the tests were negative.

Have you ever heard of a 3 year old complaining of back pain?

We're taking him to the hospital to get a complete metabolic lab done tomorrow. It means drawing blood, which is traumatic. They are looking for things like a thyroid problem, etc. We have no way of knowing how serious the pains are, except to judge John's behavior -- and he is clearly not his happy post-surgery self.

Your prayers are appreciated. We will keep you posted.

Mr. Lion

Mr Lion certainly has an auspicious position in John's life. He's the chief of all stuffed animals. Others may come and go from his bed, but Mr. Lion is always there. Lately John's been attempting to prolong his nighttime ritual (Can you sing me one last song again? Can you sing another one last song?) But I tell him no, it's his turn to sing Mr. Lion to sleep. Mr Lion's favorite song, by the way, is Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

Little Sister

John loves having a little sister. She smiles whenever he walks into the room, and he just beams. It's been an adjustment for him, but he's doing great. And she's such an easy-going baby. Smiles all the time. John was never that way.