Monday the 8th was a long day. There were laps around the driveway despite continued pain in her ribs (4 laps plus the walkway to and from the driveway are 0.18 miles, just for future reference; yes, I mapped it out), a weigh-in (up 2 pounds!!), and a visit with K., my physical therapist friend who lives up the road. She watched Titanium Girl walk and gave her some things to do to work on her walking and body mechanics. They’re not unlike form drills if you run: marching with knees up, butt kicks, exaggerated heel-toe walking. After trying these out even briefly, Titanium Girl’s stance and gait actually did improve. She also stands more evenly in shoes than barefoot, so she may need to wear shoes around the house to help give her a stable platform. K. also showed her a neat trick to get her to breathe in more deeply by pulling her elbows out as she breathes in. She likely needs to do this more, as this may be part of why her ribs have hurt so much after the sneeze and cough episodes: her rib cage simply isn’t used to expanding that much.
After the mini-PT session, Titanium Girl begged to lay down and take a nap. I relented; I’d really wanted her to try to get in some more school work, but she hadn’t slept well the night before, and I could see she was truly tired. She wasn’t going to be able to process anything academic in that state. I did make her march back to her room with knees up, just to work on at least that much. Seeing how she was coping, both physically and emotionally, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get her to go to the band concert she’d been looking forward to going to for weeks. I truly believed she needed to go for the interaction with friends that would hopefully energize her. But in order to secure the kind of seat she would need (in the back, on an end where she wouldn’t have lots of people trying to scoot past her into the row), we’d have to get there fairly early, early enough that I wasn’t sure she could physically sit there long enough to attend the entire concert after waiting for it to start. While Titanium Girl slept, DH and I arranged with some friends to hold some end seats for us so we wouldn’t have to get there quite so early.
Then it became a matter of convincing Titanium Girl to go. I helped her shower and suggested an extra half a pain pill. I mentioned we had people saving seats for us so we could get there closer to the beginning of the concert, but she didn’t think she could make it. “I’m not sure I can sit through the entire concert. What if I’m hurting and I need to leave before the 6th grade plays?” she asked. “You won’t know until you try,” I told her. She picked out her Titanium shirt to wear; it has the periodic table listing for Titanium. I grabbed the meds she’d be due for during the concert, something to wash them down with, and some extra pillows then helped her into the car.
We got there about 15 minutes later than we typically would if she were playing in the concert, so we had to park farther out than we normally would. I wondered how she’d hold up with walking the extra distance, but she did ok. We walked into the school, down the loooooong hallway to the auditorium (getting a couple hugs along the way from friends!), and found the folks who were saving our end seats. We got situated, and the 6th grade band soon took their places in their section in the audience (they watch the 5th graders play before they go on). I asked Titanium Girl if she’d like to walk over and say hi to her friends, and she said yes. She walked across the auditorium to where the 6th graders were seated, and the section practically erupted with excited greetings. Some got up to hug her (gently), a few commented on how much taller she is now, several practically yelled out that she’d gotten first chair clarinet on the test they took before her surgery, and others asked what she’d had done and how long would she be gone. It was a little overwhelming for Titanium Girl, but in a good way, I think. Her band mates were genuinely glad to see her, and I think that buoyed her spirits.
We proceeded back to our seats and the concert began. It was absolutely wonderful; the school she goes to has a truly amazing music program, and each concert is better than the last. When her band took the stage, Titanium Girl began fingering the notes to one of the songs, as though she had her clarinet with her. I was glad to see her engaged in that way, and having been a band kid myself, I could empathize with the difficulty of wanting to be on that stage and not being able to be.
After the concert, I asked Titanium Girl if she’d like to go back stage to the band room and say hi to her teachers. She agreed, though getting there was a bit of a challenge through the throngs of people trying to leave. But we made it through, saw some more friends along the way, and finally caught up with the band directors. They were happy to see her there and asked how she’s doing. We talked about her progress on clarinet, that she doesn’t have the volume or stamina back yet, but her tone is still good. By this point a lot of the crowds had thinned out, and we made our way back around to the front of the school, hitting a bake sale on the way out where we caught up with yet more friends. More hugs and catching up ensued, but by this point, Titanium Girl was understandably flagging, so we soon headed to the car and got her home and in bed. I was so impressed with how well she held up, even when it was difficult. We’ll need to build on this if she’s going to be ready to head back to school in January, but I have more confidence in that possibility after seeing how she got through the concert. The best part was when she told me she was glad she went; the struggle to get her to go was worth it for that part alone.
