Nate Hegyi

Charlie takes quick, short breaths in between each word when he talks. He Inhales like a deep-sea diver; a woman practicing Lamaze. Especially when he's excited. Coincidentally, Darth Vader is his hero. He has a lisp that tails to the right side of his mouth and he has trouble with r's and th sounds. So it would sound a little like this:

I {breath}
wheelie {breath}
fink {breath}
Doff { breath}
Vay-duh { breath}
issssth {breath}
in {breath}
lay-buh {breath}
on {breath}
fuh {breath}
bottom {breath}
of {breath}
fuh {breath}
ocean.

Charlie's speech was evaluated at school the other day and the therapist observed all of the above. I don't exactly know why we didn't do something sooner about his speech. I guess we dropped the ball. Maybe we had so much diabetes on our plate that his speech issues were just pushed to the side like lukewarm peas. Or maybe that's just a convenient excuse. We were always aware of the heavy breathing and the lisp, but thought he'd outgrow it.

I'm pleased that the school is now on the case, albeit belated. It would be nice to avoid the tropical storm of spit that comes with "I fink my blood ssssthugar is low." Or the Category 5-level hurricane of saliva we endure when he then requests "pretsssszel ssthticksss or ssssthome Herssssshey Kissssthesss."

Does anyone else get so consumed with diabetes that you lose sight of other potential problems? No? Not so much? Is it that we're just sucky parents?

Speaking of sight, now I'm starting to wonder if Charlie always had that one big creepy eye on his forehead like a Cyclops and a third little arm growing from his back? Hmm, never noticed that. Maybe we should have that looked at.