Matters of the Holey Heart

Dear Mama,

I didn’t love yesterday.  You took me to one of those places that have no windows and I had to get naked while some strangers weighed and measured me.  Those scales are cold, if you haven’t noticed.  Please don’t ever put me on one again.  You can obviously tell I’m growing because your arms are starting to get tired when you hold me, I don’t know why you keep needing a number.  Then you put a bunch of sticky wires all over my hot baby bod.  Didn’t like that either, especially when you peeled them off, one by one.

Some doctor dude came in and told you my EKG didn’t look quite right and I have a heart murmur after all.  I didn’t much mind any of that news but it sure stressed you out, jeepers.  You even had an entire conversation with me, asking me not to need surgery, as if I can talk.  You shouldn’t do that in public, mama.  People might think you’re weird, and I would hate to see you judged like that.

Anyways.  After that, you took me somewhere else, where some other dude put some slimy stuff all over my body and wanted me to lie down for 25 minutes without moving. Not cool.  I tried.  For, like, five minutes, I tried that holding still business.  But I really wanted some milk.  For some reason, you kept letting me have just a little bit of milk then you put me back on that stupid papery bed again and wanted me to lie still.  The worst was when the dude tried to stick that slimy thing under my neck.  No one sticks slimy stuff under my neck.  So I figured I’d poop my diaper and see if that made you pick me up.  That worked, until it didn’t.  Then I cried for milk again.

Anyways, so that doctor dude says I have two holes in my heart, one itty bitty, and one 3mm that isn’t big enough to need surgery.  I actually had three, but I secretly closed one up by myself.  Good thing, because doctor dude says when you have that kind of hole, it always needs surgery.  No thanks on the surgery; I’m not interested.  The doctor said he has never seen a hole like mine close up the way it did, so I’m pretty proud that I pulled that off.  He said I also have some different plumbing going in and out of the ol’ ticker.  Got some veins and arteries going in and out of unusual places, no biggie, not even related to my extra chromosome.  He also said that even my bigger hole was in a really unusual spot, not typical for kids like me (that extra chromosome thing again).  He seemed pretty fascinated with me in general.  Anyways, at that point I got bored and tried the old poop-in-my-diaper trick again.  That worked.

Try not to freak out, mama.  I’m doing just fine, and all it means is that I have to go do that stupid slimy-gel-lie-still business every three months.  I’ll work on getting better at that, but no promises.  I know you were freaking out because everyone told you I didn’t have a heart problem, but I was just saving that surprise for a rainy day.  Surprise!  I like to surprise you.

Anyways, let’s just move on, shall we?  I’d like to have some more milk and fall asleep on your shoulder now, thanks.

Love,

LP