Molars and more

Roo is back at speech therapy.  We've been fortunate to squeeze him in for one visit per month for now, down from the once a week standing appointment he used to have.  After a lengthy letter writing campaign from our Pediatrician, GI team, ENT, and our Speech Therapist, Cigna has agreed to cover Roo's feeding therapy after all.

All I'm going to say is this: Hey, thanks, Cigna, for coming around and seeing the light and not making us retroactively responsible for several thousands of dollars in therapy fees, but next time, it would be super helpful if we didn't have to cancel all our upcoming appointments and revisit the waiting list while you sort your sh*t out.  Now we fight to get him back on the regular schedule. 

In other oral news, Roo is finally getting his two-year molars.  One is through the gums, one is visible and starting to poke through.  The two on top are yet to come.  Yes, he'll be three and a half in September, my little late bloomer.  At least now we know he has more teeth.

Feeding Therapy

Our speech therapist thinks Roo has made big progress in the past few months and isn't sure she needs to see him anymore.  I agree that he often eats well in her office.  All the games of Connect 4, sticker charts, balloon timer, and the pretty young speech therapist provide exactly the level of incentive he requires to finish a decent meal.  She believes that at this point it's largely a matter of keeping him motivated.  He can eat.  He just chooses not to most of the time.  And she's right. 

But I'm torn. He can eat when he sets his mind to it.  He crunches up Dum Dum lollipops like nobody's business.  He can eat raw carrots, Ruffles potato chips, pork, bacon, grape tomatoes, and all kinds of other foods that require ample chewing.  But without fail, he still gags on yogurt.  Muffins, most cookies, and soft breads, pancakes and the like are still off limits.  And while we know that his esophagus is clear right now, he still threw up after a single bite of ice cream with sprinkes this weekend.  My theory is that it was a textural issue...the mixing of tiny crunchy pellets along with soft, cold, mushy ice cream.  That kind of stuff still happens a lot.  

If we are to believe the scopes, GI's, ENT, and speech therapist, there's not really a physical cause remaining at this point for the frequent vomiting and general food aversion.  He still takes Prevacid because I think with or without the EoE he suffers from reflux too. I'm thinking of continuing the speech because I don't really know what else to do with him. 

Vomitathon

For a while there I thought we might be trending toward less retching and spewing.  Four times this week!  One crying induced choke when the babysitter showed up, one regular old-fashioned gag on the very last bite of an hour long dinner session, one middle of the night milk disaster, and one inexplicable couch vomit that even he had no idea was coming.

What gives?  He's off milk.  Off eggs.  Off nuts.  Off any bites larger than a dime.  He's working on his chewing and maybe even starting the get the idea, if not the hang of it quite yet.  He doesn't seem to be in pain.  He's happy - often immediately before he pukes and almost always immediately after.  There's the runny nose factor, which always makes his feeding and throwing up worse, but if that's going to be the deciding factor, there's no recourse but to move.  Runny noses are a way of life here until mid-April at least. 

The thing is, I don't even care about the mess anymore.  It's rather like changing a diaper - though I wouldn't mind giving up that gift of motherhood soon either, and despite the thousands of changes I've performed, I would still opt against doing it on the table of a crowded restaurant.  It's all the work that goes into it.  After an hour of helping to spoon tiny nibbles of hearty gnocchi in oil-rich marinara and fluffy egg-free, dairy-free meatballs into his mouth, he gives it all back on the last bite.  Last night, he put away nearly half a chicken breast, couscous, and a few green beans.  Happily, he fled the table, played with his beloved Silly Bandz for ten minutes, then puked all over the couch.  He explained that his tummy never even hurt.  He didn't know he was going to throw up. It surprised him as much as the rest of us.  At least it was bath night.

Maybe the EoE's still bothering him.  The next scope's set for November 5.  In the interim, there's the allergist appointment, flu shot sequence, and pre-op physical preceding the scope.  It's a laugh a minute for this kid.