Went on an airplane - told everyone about it. Over and over.
Played with Joe. He's great. He's got lots of trains. I want them all.
Played with Joe some more. Went home for my tea. Didn't get his trains.
Went to this place with lots of smiley ladies. They stuck a needle in me. I cried. Alot. I like smiley ladies though.
Went out in the car with Mummy and Daddy. Went a long way and found lots of people with stripey uniforms. They tried to hold me down and put me in this tunnel. I wasn't having it. I screamed. Mummy cried. Got lots of chocolate.
Sometimes I'm not sure about Mummy and Daddy.
Went out in the car to see Kim and Mark. They have lots of toys. They make funny noises and I look and everyone smiles.
I like the dancing cow best. And the dinosaur.
Tom doesn't yet know that Saturday will involve another short car journey and more stripey uniforms. Tomorrow, at 6.30am, we're due at the QMC for Tom's second cochlear implantation. I'll explain more about how we got to this point another time (for it is a twisting tale within this longer odyssey). Briefly then, the week has featured:
- a vaccination for a bacterium that has already done its worst
- a developmental check that has shown that, in virtually every way bar his walking, he's up with his peers
- a farce of a CT scan in a private hospital -
'He's two; he'll need to be sedated' we said.
'Don't worry, we know what we're doing' they said.
We went; he wouldn't keep still; the scans were next to useless; we weren't charged.
Being right doesn't make you feel any better on the long drive home when you don't know the extent of ossification (if any) and whether surgery can go ahead.
- the eight week tuning session for his existing implant. The power was ramped up further; still Tom doesn't flinch. He continues to make excellent progress and learnt what a 'tanker' was in the car on the way home (me driving, him in the back seat - 'look, no lips')
After the tuning session we were given the news that the Eminent Surgeon is happy to go ahead with the operation and, if he thinks it's fine, then it's fine. In quieter moments I have been composing two lists - good health services and bad. The Eminent Surgeon sits with the privileged few.
The second bottle of wine may be opened tonight. Our journey to sleep needs assistance.
Are we through the tricky bit after this?