SAM...MORE THAN A CONQUEROR: "Special" Connections

Sam. Conqueror. Overcomer.

"IN ALL THINGS WE ARE MORE THAN CONQUERORS THROUGH HIM WHO LOVES US : Samuel was born on 15th May 2009, two months early and in respiratory distress. After an initial Apgar score of 1, he was taken to the NICU and placed on a ventilator, together with an undeterminable amount of tubes, IV’s and monitors which made it almost impossible to see the little Smurfie character lying within…slightly blue and only three apples high. Sam was diagnosed within 24 hours with Rubinstein-Taybi Syndrome, a scarce medical advantage as, due to the rare occurrence of the Syndrome and the limited medical literature on it, many individuals are only diagnosed well into adulthood and some never at all. The page-long list of medical/health issues related to the syndrome, while vital in providing a prognosis and compiling a care plan, took a backseat, however, as Sam’s struggle to breathe and swallow became the primary focus of our concerns and prayers, deepened only by the heartache of not being allowed to hold and comfort him for the first ten days of his already traumatic life. After seven weeks Sam was successfully weaned from the oxygen but was still dependent on a nasal gastric tube for feeding, with which he was eventually discharged. Once home, what should have been a precious time to recover from the stress of the NICU and enjoy a relaxed and cherished time together, instead became a seemingly-endless timeline of specialist appointments, therapies, illnesses and surgeries as that page-long list of medical complexities came into play, affecting every part of Sam…physically, neurologically, medically and emotionally. Yet, despite these challenges and an “ineducable” future being predicted when his prognosis was delivered, Sam showed a delightful potential and eagerness for learning. Unfortunately though, this learning potential seemed limited to his cognitive abilities as, physically, Sam’s development lagged significantly behind that of his RTS peers. A week before his 5th birthday a brain MRI confirmed that, in addition to the RTS, Sam also has Periventricular Leukomalacia and Static Leukoencephalopathy (included under the umbrella diagnosis of Cerebral Palsy), which would more than likely have occurred as a result of the oxygen deprivation experienced leading up to and/or during his birth. Thirteen years later and with a number of surgeries and medical procedures which appear to be in fierce competition for their own “page-long list” (which surgeries and their subsequent recoveries have left Sam to face his day-to-day life with a residue of unshakeable anxieties and phobias), the boy you meet face-to-face…with his cheeky sense of humour, unfathomable joy and fierce warrior spirit…make it almost impossible to believe that that disheartening brain MRI and poor medical prognosis are of the same kid. As we begin to navigate this journey with a newly aged differently-abled teenager, leaving behind the little smurf whose fears and discomforts could so easily be remedied with a cuddle on mom’s lap, the anxiety of more surgeries and medical challenges now compounded by the universal fear of every differently-abled child’s parent/s (who will take care of their child once their own time here is gone) threatens to become overwhelming. But then the excitement of a horseriding lesson, the sheer delight of spotting a balloon (especially a hot air balloon) or a super silly giggle caused by simply hearing someone sneeze provides a beautiful reminder of the profound joy and courage these children radiate, despite their overwhelming challenges, and it provides the perfect encouragement and inspiration for facing your own. #samtheconqueror

SAMUEL - COMPLETE IN GOD
Our world has crashed, been blown apart.
This can't be happening....why us? Why now?
Your fragile life shaken before it could barely start,
How do we get through this...please, Lord, tell us how?

Drowning in our sorrow, waiting for answers that just don't come.
Our baby "special needs"? It simply can't be true!
The heartache overwhelms us, we're left feeling cold and numb.
The diagnosis tells us little - these children are so few.

But then we finallyget to touch you, to see your precious face
And all the heartache and questions fade, replaced with love and pride.
It's obvious from the very start you're showered in God's grace,
And with His love and guidance, we'll take this challenge in stride.

When once we couldn't pronounce it, Rubinstein-Taybi's become our norm.
When once the future seemed dark, we now welcome the journey as having an RTS angel brings lessons in unexpected form.

Our world has crashed, been blown apart!
This IS happening....to us.....right now!
We've been blessed with a gift, so precious from the very start. How do we get through this? Here's how.....
By believing in a God, so merciful and great,
By trusting that He's right beside us as we journey through the narrow gate.
By believing His love for us is not determined by a human frame,
By trusting that we draw Him near by merely calling His name. This precious baby we asked God for,
Prayed he'd be perfect and complete.
And, as Samuel means "God hears", He's laid His answer at our feet.

(Nicky de Beer : 27/05/2010)

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

"Special" Connections

Earlier on this week a friend and ex-colleague and I connected up on Facebook. I glanced briefly at our "mutual friends" expecting to see only people we had both worked with several years ago. Surprise is not an adequate-enough word to explain my reaction at seeing a completely unexpected friend, Lloyd Tooke, daddy to Sam's RTS brother Matt Tooke . Those of you familiar with our RTS community will know there are not many people around who can say they know an RTS family, let alone one single person being able to boast at knowing not just one, but two RTS families...purely out of randomness, without having met the one through the other. Awesome! After a super brief catch-up we discovered yet another "special" connection, Alan and his wife, Carien, have a very special angel of their own...Catherine Jamie Harcombe. Jamie, as she is known, has Down's Syndrome and at the tender young age of just four months has already endured a major heart operation as well as another surgery just days later to remedy the build-up of fluid surrounding the heart, which surgeries has left her mom and dad with an almost impossibly outrageous medical bill, for which they are receiving no assistance from their medical insurers. Please go have a look at Jamie's webpage to read more about the Harcombe's plight...and go ahead, make a donation....I dare ya!

Life here in Smurfville continues much as it has over the past few weeks...we are in the middle of Meghan's final exams for which the studying, I had thought, was going to go pretty amicably. But alas, even though she was super-enthusiastic about studying for all the revision tests for which she got mostly fullmarks or just one or two incorrect answers, the studying for the actual exams is proving (for some odd reason) to be so much more troublesome for Meg. As I sit typing this, it is pouring with rain outside as Spring battles to uphold a permanent presence here in Cape Town although I am pretty certain that in just a month or two's time I will be complaining about the Summer heat.

As for our Sam, he is still protesting solidly against his physio sessions and, quite often now, his occupational therapy sessions as well. Speech therapy is going remarkably well, mostly due to Tanya's quick-as-a-flash movements when she "sneaks" a subtle speech prompt in while Sam plays. I haven't quite got the hang of it yet and first try and maneauver Sam into an easily-receptive position, then have to co-ordinate my fingers into the required position and then slowly "go in" for the actual contact on Sam's face...by which time Sam has seen me coming from a mile. Luckily though Sam's defensiveness is much less-guarded with me so even though I sometimes have to repeat the prompt once or twice before I get it right, he's actually quite tolerant. Sam's eating habits stay pretty much unchanged, we're still predominantly on Stage 2 baby food. Sam has seemed to warm up to his slightly-distorted notion that whatever is on our plate is guaranteed to be tastier than what is in his bowl. The amusing part is that often we are eating the same thing! His sleeping is still as disruptive as always and Chris is almost convinced by now that Sam has restless leg syndrome as he tosses, turns and thrashes around literally the whole night. I am not convinced that it is not some kind of spin-off of something that is happening with that right testicle. Either way, I can count on one hand the number of nights over the past few months that Sam has slept through without me having to get up sometimes as regularly as every 20 minutes to re-settle him...but I've blogged about this before, so let's just leave it at that ;)

Chris and I are battling to decide on a Christmas pressie for Sam, who is unable to provide us with a detailed, in-order-of-wanted value list, approximately four month's in advance...as Meghan has done. We've considered buying him a walker, but he frightens even when walking with one of us holding his torso, which is a great deal more secure than a walker - so the walker is out. He already has several educational, noise-making toys of which most can hold his attention for a maximum of about two minutes. Ride-on's are definitely out as the one we bought him for his birthday is only good for being pushed by a crawling Sam, he refuses to actually sit on it let alone ride on it. The chances are by the time he's conquered his sensory issues enough to actually enjoy such a toy, his little legs will be too long for it anyway. We'll have to put a great deal more thought into this one, without forgetting that Christmas presents this year are largely going to depend on our ever-so-giving South African Revenue Services who recently advised us that we have to pay in an amount of R15,000.00 for incorrectly claiming medical costs for a child with disabilities.

But there is awesome news, folks! According to SARS and contrary to the belief and advices of many specialists and doctors who have obviously wasted their hard-earned degress (nevermind the living proof of actual RTS patients) - Rubinstein-Taybi Syndrome is NOT permanent. Yes, you read correct...in approximately five years Samuel is going to be cured and will be a "normal" boy because, according to SARS, RTS is not a permanent disability. How amazing is that? In five years time Sam is going to walk and talk and be potty trained and eat normal food and have magically-straightened thumbs and feet, no red mark on his forehead....none of that at all (mmm...wonder if those tiny little indentations/holes behind the back of his ears will also disappear). Well, with news like this, who needs Christmas presents, right! Let's hear a Whoop! Whoop! for SARS.

On that slightly-disturbing note.....a random pic of a smurf wearing a smurf!