A diagnosis, of sorts

Hospital waiting rooms - a good source of books

I didn’t sleep last night.

I was too busy tossing and turning in bed, mulling over the various different things that could mean my toddler isn’t toddling. Why is it that things always seem so much worse in the dark?

Today’s hospital appointment – both dreaded and anticipated – wasn’t particularly pleasant. The X-ray which I was hoping to avoid did actually happen. The consultant examined Frog’s gorgeous hips and sent us straight to the room with the “special camera”.

It turns out, as much as Frog loves having her picture taken, she’s not so keen on the “special camera”.

In fact, she rather loathes it. As the light turned on she screamed “HOT HOT HOT” as her father and I pinned her to the bed, desperately singing The Wheels on the Bus in an attempt to stop her escaping the X-ray Monster. Pleasant is not a word I’d use to describe those 5 minutes.

But, once some raisins had been retrieved from the bottom of my bag, and Frog was safely out of sight from the “special camera” our spirits started to lift.

The consultant examined the X-ray and uttered the words I’d been hoping to hear for the last four months: There’s no serious issue with her hips. They’re not dislocated.

I could have cried with relief right there – black mascara running down my face – but I was too busy listening to the next bit.

But there is a problem. She will need treatment.

It turns out Frog is exceptionally gifted in the flexibility stakes. She could put any ballerina or gymnast to shame, apparently. The thing is, Frog’s flexibility is what is causing the mobility issues. In short, she’s too flexible to walk.

An examination from the doctor showed her feet turn almost all the way around, so that she could be facing forwards while her feet face backwards. Not something you need when you’re trying to negotiate the simple act of standing up without holding your mum’s hand.

Frog also has a clicky hip, caused by a dogdy ligament, caused by the flexibility issue. Her knees swivel around like some kind of fancy chair featured on the latest BBC talent show The Voice. Her body is a bit like a pipe cleaner, with no locking system to keep every joint in place, where it needs to be.

So, the bottom line is, although she’s approaching 2 years old, Frog is unlikely to walk any time soon. She needs special shoes with more support around the ankles (although where I get these is anyone’s guess) and she needs lots of physio treatment.

She also needs to go back to see the lovely consultant after her 2nd birthday to double-check there’s nothing more sinister behind her refusal to walk.

There are three months sitting between us and that first physio appointment.

I’m going to use that time wisely, to search for a special pair of shoes and a large supply of patience.