Tribute to a Woman on an Airplane

So, Ingrid has this thing called congenital pseudoarthrosis of the tibia. It is as complicated as it sounds and looks. (In fact, Joe had a nightmare about a week ago where he was in school and was taking a spelling test. He had a partner, me, and we had to spell 20 words. Well, guess what the third word on OUR test was. Yep, you guessed it. Time ran up as we debated on how to just spell the name of the condition Ingrid has. I'm sure it is pretty easy to decide what that all means.) Anyway, so Ingrid's right tibia is messed up. The tibia is the big bone that we need below our knee. (Please don't think I am trying to be patronizing. I wouldn't have remembered that five months ago.) She has a condition where the bone makes a fake (the pseudo part) joint (the arthrosis part) in the bone, and once it has broken (rewind to May), it cannot heal.

And you might ask, "If it does not heal, what does the bone do?" Well, it mends at a v-like angle, leaving her leg looking really deformed after awhile, and the bone begins to nibble on itself--like in osteoporosis. This condition is rare, and most ortheopedic surgeons have read about it but not operated on a kid with it. So, we are seeing a doctor in Baltimore who has seen 18 kids with the condition. He will do something similar to what I will describe:

1. Cut out some of the "bad part" of her tibia
2. Take a large chunk of her pelvic bone out (replace that empty spot with a sponge--the bone will grow back)
3. Insert a rod in her tibia to stabilize it
4. Pack the removed pelvic bone around the "bad bone" site
5. Rod some of the bones in her foot
6. Bird cage her leg for a month

This surgery will take place in the next few months in Baltimore. We will then return to have the bird cage apparatus removed about a month later. She will wear either casts or a full leg brace through her teenage years in order to protect her leg. Hopefully, she will make it out of her growing years with a complete right leg and a close-to-normal gait.

Ingrid is amazing, really, she is. She has figured out how to walk on all 5 of her casts and now her brace. Whatever happens, she will be fine. (We will try to as well.)

So, the story of the woman on the plane. We flew to Baltimore this summer to meet Ingrid's doctor. Our flights as follows:

1. Memphis to Cincinnati (Interesting thing: Ingrid's casts and bitty hands were swabbed to test for explosive residue. Yep, they thought we might have just made our daughter stuff a bomb down her own little cast. I was shocked the first time. The other times I expected it. I made no jokes about it, though.)

2. Cincinnati to D.C. (We shared that flight with a famous PBS person.)

3. D.C. to Atlanta

(***Finally! The story! So, we sat next to a woman on this flight. She was from ATL and had 3 kids. She was funny and entertaining. She always seemed to be able to pull out something from her purse in just the nick of time to entertain Ingrid. She was sincerely happy to sit close to our little girl. So, there was a storm in ALT, and we spent an extra hour in the air, circling and waiting to land. Ingrid had had just about enough of it all and began to cry. Unfortunately, nothing would calm her. I cried; she cried. I was sure that everyone on the plane was wishing Ingrid would suddenly go mute. It was embarrassing. We were so fortunate to have sat next to the woman we did. She sang to Ingrid and talked to us. She calmly read her magazine like Ingrid's cries weren't bothering her. She was a comfort to us. I hope to be that person for someone else some day.)

4. Atlanta to Memphis (We arrived 5 hours late, thanks to a 2 times postponed flight.)

So, now we have a couple options for out next trip.

1. Drive the 18 hours to Baltimore.

OR

2. Fly (this time get our big girl her own seat) and hope that the ATL woman is flying that week too.