Allan has done great since his heart cath. No ill effects at all. He's full of energy and ready to roll. We aren't quite sure what to make of the whole "one coronary artery" thing. On the one hand, it is good news in that we don't have to have surgery right now. On the other, we were kind of hoping that we might find something that we could remedy and that would make a vast improvement in his condition. As it stands, we aren't any worse off than we were before and we are still just in a position of having to outgrow the oxygen. We go back to the cardiologist next week and, by that time, we should have our wits enough about us to ask the right questions.
I've posted a bunch of pictures from the past two weeks or so. You can see that Griffith hasn't gotten over his distaste for grass quite yet. We went to the jazz concert in the park and he would only venture to the edge of the blanket. It won't last long, but it is nice to know that he has his limits.
Aunt Kathy spent part of the weekend. She came to make sure that we weren't letting Griffith run roughshod over Allan. I think she is satisfied that Allan can hold his own. We didn't get a picture of it, but, one time when Griffith came over to mug Allan and take away whatever it was that he was playing with, Allan grabbed hold of Griffith's curly top knot and gave him a good shake. Typical boys.
She also got to see them playing ball with each other. Rolling it back and forth between. And, occasionally, grabbing it and hogging it until Mom or Dad made them share. As I said, typical boys.
Griffith still hasn't launched across open spaces yet. He walks along every piece of furniture and occasionally turns loose and stands. As soon as he realizes that he isn't holding on to something, though, he takes a knee. Future quarterback in action. He is doing better with his eating, too. He won't let you put any thing in to his mouth, but he will as long as you aren't watching him directly. We've discovered that he does better with a toddler fork because the food sticks to both sides, whereas it slides off the back of a spoon. Which, of course, is the side he wants to have up. Very British of him -- eating from his upside-down fork. Whatever it takes, I suppose. (But I'm not serving him blood sausage -- even if he would eat it.) We are working our way through gruelly foods -- tapioca, cream of wheat, cream of rice. Next week we are on to grits and, possibly, some substance called something like Malt-0-meal. Yum. Who knew kids could be so much trouble?