APEX —
(Part One of Six)
When my son was five years old, he had an accident. The heavy lid of his oak toy box fell upon his hand. From the looks of it, he may have broken some bones. So, I took him to the emergency room for a check-up. X-rays showed no broken bones, thankfully.
After we got back home, I received a call from the radiology technician. He said he had noticed something on the x-rays that needed to be checked out by a doctor. I asked what it was. His words struck terror and panic into me. “It appears he has pseudoachondroplasia”. “Oh my God!” I thought. “Is it terminal?” He assured me that it was something that could be ‘taken care of’ by doctors. Thus began a lifelong experience that I never dreamed of being a part of.
Aaron was a small child. He spent the first two weeks of his life in the hospital until his weight was over five pounds. Even in the first few months of his life, we knew he was somehow ‘different’. Unlike other children, his head was perfectly proportioned to the rest of his body. People who saw him frequently commented on what a beautiful child he was, and how he didn’t have the typical over-sized head that ‘normal’ kids have. We simply thought we were very blessed to have such a lovely boy child.
As he grew, it was obvious that he was the ‘runt’ of the family. But, that was no big deal. His mom is only five-five and I’m five-six. Heck, I was always the shortest kid in class until I was in high school. Many relatives on both sides of the family are between five-oh and five-eight. So, being small ran in the family. His childhood was as normal as any little boy. He played games, ran, rode his tricycle, skated on his rollerblades, learned to ride a bicycle. And he absolutely loved sports of all kinds. The very word fanatic seemed to have been invented just for him.
Until the day of the accident, we had no clue there was anything ‘wrong’ with him. I took him to our family physician who sent us to a leading orthopedic surgeon in Spartanburg, S.C., where we lived at the time. Amazingly, the ‘orthopod’ only looked at his face, his hands and had him walk back and forth across the exam room several times. “Yep. He’s got pseudoachondroplasia.” There was that word again.
“What does that mean, doc?” I asked.
“It means,” he said with a smile, “your son is a dwarf.”
( ...to be continued tomorrow)
