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August 16, 2006
About four and a half years ago, I was sitting at Zeke's cribside in the Newborn Intensive Care Unit when his doctor and some of the other residents came by for morning rounds. They discussed his ventilator settings and the amount of fluid that had come out of his chest tube since the previous day. As they were leaving, the doctor stayed behind for a few minutes to talk with me, and without my asking, offered that in her opinion, Zeke should probably grow into a perfectly normal boy, capable of playing most sports without too much difficulty.
I thought to myself: But I didn't even mention sports. It hadn't even crossed my radar. And what's this "probably"? What's this "most"? What's this "too much"? Why all the hedging and the modifiers? Was my little boy going to be shut out of running and jumping and playing just because of some stupid, awful virus that he had the misfortune to get sick with no more than a few weeks out of the womb? I worried, through the doctor's best efforts to cheer me up.
I remembered all of this today. It came unbidden to my mind as we were standing in the sporting goods store, buying Zeke his first pair of baseball pants and cleats.
Posted at August 16, 2006 2:39 PM
Posted by: Krimo at August 18, 2006 3:11 PM
I started to cry when I read this. I remember when he was such a sick little baby. Go Zeke!!!