I didn't see this one coming

In 2008, we were told by a neurologist that Dax would never walk.

In 2009, we were told by his PT that she thought he could one day walk, but he'd probably need an assistive device, like a walker.

A few months ago, we were told by Dax's PT that she knew he'd walk. Her goal was to help him walk correctly.

A few weeks ago, she told us he'd run and climb stairs.

Today, she told us something even better.

Today, as the PT went over the new exercises and stretches we will be working on in therapy and at home, she tells me that the therapy she's doing with Dax is very detailed compared to what she normally does. She goes on to tell me that she rarely works on such detailed specifics with children, and that she never, ever would have guessed in June that this is what she'd be working on with Dax in September. She tells me Dax has many, many small areas that need fixing and adjusting and fine-tuning, and as we fix one area there might be three other areas that pop up we didn't realize needed fixing, too. She tells me we'll keep plugging along. That's what we do.

She tells me, of course, that she could never, ever predict the future, and she cannot tell me for certain what will pop up next on our radar, and she cannot possibly tell me for certain what hurdles might fall along the way.

But then she tells me that, based on what she sees, and what she knows, and what she's learned in 30+ years of pediatric PT, that if he keeps progressing as he is, that one day, eventually, we will discharge. That Dax will no longer need PT. That Dax will be as mobile as any other child.

That may not mean much to you, but as a mother of a child I assumed would be in PT for many, many years, if not his entire life, I didn't see the "D" word coming. Even if it's a year or two down the road, I didn't see it coming.

Today I feel enormously blessed and humbled. How easy it is to forget.