The good news is that despite the eight-pound cast Quinn is lugging around, he is feeling great. The bad news... despite the eight-pound cast Quinn is lugging around, he is feeling great. So great, in fact, that he thinks nothing of running across the porch and leaping off into the lawn, or standing up on the sofa or trying to climb up the side of a big rock. If he succeeds -- not surprisingly, considering how off-kilter his balance is -- he often falls. And hits his head. And cries.
It's like having a brand-new walker again. We have to watch this child like a hawk.
Seriously, I can't help but marvel at how amazingly well this kid is doing. And it hit me the other day that he doesn't know this thing is coming off in a month. To him, it's gotta be something like, "Well, I guess this is my new life." I'm a pretty optimistic person, and I truly believe I would be a basket case in his shoes. That cast is heavy. It's hot. It severely constricts him. It prevents him any use of his right arm. Good Lord, that's a lot to take in.
But Quinn has no time or inclination to worry about any of that. He's too busy looking for the next thing he can climb up on and hurl himself off of.