One year ago we took Simon to the hospital because he kept complaining about stomach pain. (I told my book club last night that this was the night he first began complaining. I was wrong. Sorry.) They suspected it was his appendix, but instead diagnosed him with constipation. I returned hope crabby because it seemed like a worthless visit. The next day I promptly bought prune juice and kept telling him to get up and walk. I'm sorry. I didn't know what was really going on. New blog readers should know that his appendix was inflamed and would rupture a few days later. We wouldn't know and five days after the misdiagnosis would later be admitted to DeVos Children's hospital for 19 days because of the abscesses and huge infection that was in his belly.
I'd much rather be dealing with what we encountered with my Simon tonight. He cut off a chunk of his shirt. Just took a scissors and cut out a piece. I asked him what had happened and he admitted he had cut it off. He didn't even do it to impress anyone--just cut it off! I'm still a little "shaking my head" about it. There is a small smirk on my face. . . though I'm not letting him see it. There are many worse things a first grader can do. The shirt is still wearable. He just had a scissors and decided to use it. He is also growing his hair long because he likes to feel sweaty. (Yeah, no clue on that one!) He has one tooth that is hanging on and looks very all crazy when he smiles. He eats almost anything, but did pick all of the peas out of his veggie soup. He asked to bring oreos to school today because two of his friends like them and he wanted to share. He corrected Garrison's Mandarin tonight--and he was right. He obsesses about legos and the ipad. He rarely gets us up in the middle of the night and needs about ten minutes of "whatever" time in the morning before he can begin. He sneaks up on our laps and I often find myself holding him on my lap during church. I'm not complaining. His giggle makes me smile all the time. He is a person of justice and has a hard time letting things go. He is still sensitive about the scars he received while in the hospital. He still brings up remembrances of his time there. He'll play outside longer than any of my other kids. He loves Star Wars and has found that in common with his daddy. He is a Hunan child--he loves spicy food. He'll often sleep on the top of his blankets so he doesn't have to make his bed in the morning. He gets along the best--one-on-one--with his siblings than any other child. (Garrison + Simon or Simon + Noel or Simon + Penny He is good with them all unlike Garrison + Noel = bad combination)
He is my son. He is alive. Gary and I are changed because of the entire experience--God certainly brought all kinds of good through it. I certainly don't want to relive it, but I'm so glad that it is a part of my story of God's amazing faithfulness in my life. We'll be reflecting a lot over the next month--the surgeries, the medications, the pic line, the help, the outpouring of friends and family, our home on the 9th floor. . .it'll be wonderful for us to celebrate all of the victories. Bless God!
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