My first book O meu arco-íris (“My Rainbow”)
Everything felt right, but something was wrong...
As I arrived home, I was welcomed by my father and the giggling anxiety of Gabriela, my only eight-years-old sister.
Aunt Noemia took care of me as I turned four months of age, so that my mother could go back to work at the kindergarten, where she had been dealing with children.
Apparently my development seemed normal, but my mother noticed that the position of my hands was not quite right, and reported it to the pediatrician on the eight-month appointment. But, by watching the strength I applied on opening and closing the drawers of doctor Trindade's desk, he evaluated nothing to be alarmed of.
However, in order to clean her conscience, my mother took me to doctor Ofélia Miranda, at the Maria Pia Hospital in Oporto. Everything seemed to be ok, but something was wrong...
At the age of one, I still couldn’t walk by myself, and in order to move around home, I used a kitchen bench to help me with my lack of balance. And bad news came from Dr. Ofélia Miranda, the neuropediatrician who diagnosed my cerebral palsy.
Several things could have caused the injury: the fact that I was born with the umbilical cord around my neck, the use of a suction cup, the respiratory arrest or the lack of oxygen that took place during those minutes in which I was "as good as dead", even my parent’s blood incompatibility, or even God's will... (or maybe my will, when I decided to come to this world...).
Sem comentários:
Enviar um comentário