Katya is having surgery in early September, so before our house is deluged with relatives who *all* picked this August as their time to visit, and before we swing full on into packing and and pre-ops, I thought I’d catch up on our last trip to Hopkins.
Early June we took Katya down to Hopkins again. There was a CT scan, and appointments with the Geneticist, Plastics, and Neurology. No Eye-Clinic, since Dr. Repka was on vacation.
I didn’t go back for the CT scan, but mum didn’t even have to hold Katya’s chin this time, because the guy who ran the scan kindly put Curious George on his phone for Katya to watch.
There was a mix-up with the scheduling, so we had to wait even longer than usual to be seen. But it was fine.
Dr. D. came in to see Katya first. Katya is quite comfortable with him now, and lets him take her pictures for his records, and even tries to smile. Dr. D. was in top form, and was his usual, amicable self. He’s always more relaxed when Dr. A. is out of the room. I don’t know *why*, and though I could give you a stunning description of exactly how each acts when the other is present, I have learned my lesson. No more public character sketches of people still living. The ramifications are too long lasting. Hilarious, but long lasting.
Dr. D. read the CT scan, which reported that her skull 1) still has very large soft spots and 2) is half as thick as it should be. The significance of 2) is that, when she has her patching surgery, bone will likely be taken from her ribs and/or hips, instead of or in addition to her skull.
Then of course, there was Dr. A, and the Genetics Lady, and sundry other persons. Dr. A never says much. He has the air of a man who has learned to keep his eyes open and his mouth shut. He probably plays golf.
After the appointment was done, we packed up and headed to Alexandria WV, because Daddy had some work there. While Daddy worked, we hung out in the hotel. One of the days, Mum and I took Katya into DC via the metro, and went to the Smithsonian Art Museum, the Spy Museum gift shop, and a farmers’ market, and Katya ate peanut soup and drank pink basil lemonaid. In the Art Museum, Katya was bothered by the modern art– depressing, weird stuff– and enjoyed the more open portrait galleries. She especially enjoyed the large nature paintings, such as “Grand Canyon of the Yellow Stone”.
On our way home, we stopped off at Harper’s Ferry, and enjoyed the sun and the old buildings. Katya and I split an iced tea, and she threw a panicked fit because she was a bit dehydrated, and was scared that she wouldn’t get enough to drink. Poor kid. Her years of abuse and deprivation still show through. She calmed down once she got more to drink.
Despite the many challenges thrown at her– long waits, holding still for a CT scan, metro rides, a big city, the art museum, dragging around in crowds, loud noises, dogs, etc., Katya handled virtually everything with aplomb and dignity. It was tough for her, but she survived. She really seemed to benefit from the three of us being able to give her our undivided attention, and seemed much calmer and more “ten”. We really enjoyed the extra time with her.