It's late on Tuesday the 4th; the first day at Futures is always a big one, as we all adjust to Cal's new schedule. He was a champion though. He had a great appetite at lunch and was really gregarious. A big part of the Futures plan is tummy time and a program of assisted arm, leg, and trunk movements on a massage table, in a medium to reduce resistance. We have been using organic olive oil as a medium at home since it seemed to have the least effect on his sensitive skin; other media we tried gave him terrible eczema, but olive oil has seemed generally good. They are using glycerine here now and it seems even better. He was typically wiped-out at the end of his therapy day, but got a second wind when we got back to the apartment at Mill Creek and we got into a couple of books. He completes sentences when we read him his old favorites and we can all practically recite "Brown Bear Brown Bear" from memory.
We also sang a bit and he shook his rattles along. That didn't last too long though; for one thing, I just don't know enough songs, and for another, there's a good chance that his rattle-shaking is an attempt to drown me out rather than jam with his old man. In the end. music time gave over to an extended round of "hello? good-bye!" peek-a-boo.
He then gave us a huge scare at dinner by choking on some lentil soup. He often likes to throw his head to one side or the other when he's seated in his fancy high chair - we reckon he is just exploring what little mobility he has to the fullest - but often when he does this he can't bring it back very well. Next time you're eating, try throwing your head back and see what it does for your swallowing/breathing power. Then imagine you can't get yourself out of that position. So Janet had him out of the chair in seconds and over her shoulder and then over a pillow, giving him chest P.T. and then suction ... anyway it was a very scary few minutes but we all came through it OK. The whole thing was so awful and so banal at the same time - one minute you're spooning lentil soup into his mouth, normal as can be, and the next minute panic sort of breaks in a slow-motion wave over your consciousness even though almost nothing has seemed to change, he's just reacting like someone who needs to clear his throat, and it's easy to forget at times that this simple task is no easy matter for him.
In the end, I'm happy to say, the worst consequence of this episode turned out to be our shattered nerves, and that Cal was put off his lentil soup.