The latest news in the never ending saga of Joshua's therapies is that Josh, who walks on his tip toes and has a lot of balance issues is having trouble with his legs. They are too tight in the ankles and because he's always on his toes it's causing a lot of trouble for him with his walking and running. The combination of toe walking and balance problems cause him to trip a lot, and if the ankle muscles don't become more flexible we are looking at a painful surgery that results in a long recovery. Yesterday we met again with our Physio therapist who is going to put him in casts for three weeks (he wants to do it before the end of the month). Two casts, for up to three weeks. It's more of an annoyance than anything painful for him but he's struggling this week. He's angry, sad, fed up and ready to call it quits on all therapy. To be honest... I don't blame the kid. I feel the same way after his appointments. I thank God I didn't know all the endless problems that result from a stroke back when he first had it. This week has been difficult, he cried all the way to his language therapy and no matter what I said, it didn't help. He wanted to go home. He was tired. I finally got into the back seat and sat beside him and told him about his stroke. I am not sure I have ever really explained that to him. I told him about what happened, and I told him what it means for him as he grows and develops. I explained that it makes things like talking harder for him, that it makes one side of his body weaker than the other, and then I did my best to explain that all the doctors, all the therapists want to help him to recover from the stroke. I don't know how much he took in and actually understood (another down side of his language impairment) but he was listening. Then when the sobs eased a little bit I asked if he would go in if I asked her to shorten his session, and that finally got him out of the car. Yesterday, he cried all the way to PT, quiet, heart breaking sobs from the back seat. Whispered little 'too many doctors'... it's enough to break the heart of the toughest person and I am not not a tough person. Our saving grace yesterday was that PT includes running, jumping, and a therapist that rewards him with little games of basketball. All that to say, it's been a really hard week. It's been a long winter. Spring will bring three weeks of casting for Josh, little mobility and then when it's all said and done it means special orthotics for the summer and then come September, it means three months of physio therapy. I can't help but ask God why? When will it end? Psalm 40 rings through my mind as I ask him How long?? How many times will I go into his room long after he's fallen asleep and touch his head and beg God to heal him only to be met with silence. What does all this tiredness mean for his heart? The lethargic Josh is returning and I ache because though it could be nothing... it could also be EVERYTHING.